


Restless Nights

by EstelUndomiel (capn_cecil_ang)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Dreams, Drinking to Cope, Drug Addiction, Drug Withdrawal, Emotional Roller Coaster, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Medicinal Drug Use, Minor Character Death, Nightmares, Projecting, Psychologist Castiel, client Dean, defying client, graphic violence in sequences from hell, manipulative client, occasional sexual themes, psychological defence mechanisms, transfer/contratransfere
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-07-28
Updated: 2015-06-28
Packaged: 2018-02-10 19:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 56,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2036925
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/capn_cecil_ang/pseuds/EstelUndomiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean is having dreams where he and his brother are supernatural hunters and eventually his dreams turns into nightmares. It is then when he accepts his borther's offer of visiting a psychologist. And it is now when emotional roller coaster of unspoken feelings and mixed signals begins. Also, Castiel seems to know more about Dean's condition than he is admitting.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. No Rest for the Wicked

**Author's Note:**

> DISCLAIMER: (Unfortunately) I do not own anything associated with Supernatural - not character, nor story. I'm just borrowing them and making my own little universe of happy endings.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: quite graphic depictions of violence in dream sequences of hell
> 
> Beta by wonderful: ollliverwood

_"The healthy man does not torture others - generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers."_

Carl Gustav Jung

_Fire... smoke... burning flesh... screams, lots of voices screaming. In agony, for help, for mercy, screaming for their lives. But they are all long lost. There is no one who would help them, no one who would hear their screams._

_Dean feels the sharp pain in his hip as a heated knife makes its way through his skin and muscles deep down to his inner organs. He wants to fight back, he wants to set himself free, but he can’t. He’s too weak for it. He’s too weak even, for screaming. He was screaming- screaming for help, for his brother, for anyone- but he has lost hope of someone saving him long time ago. He resigned. He knows there is no way out of here. He knows he is to spend the eternity here. Only if that horrible pain would fade away. Only if he could have a momentary break._

_“You know, you can make it happen, Dean,” a sickly obsequious voice sounds near his ear and Dean opens his heavy eyelids and lifts up his blood covered head only to see the man who has been torturing him for over 30 years now._

_“Alastair,” Dean growls._

_“Oh yes Dean, it is me. Who did you expect?” Alastair whispers sickly as he cuts another slice of Dean’s skin from his naked chest. Dean groans in pain but fights back the scream. He will_ not _show sign of weakness. He will_ not _make Alistair that happy._

_“So what it would be today, Dean?” Alastair is almost whispering. “You know the deal. I can put you off of these chains if you will stand on my place. You will start to torture those poor innocent souls, only to free yourself from this pain.” he slices into another piece of skin as he finishes his sentences. Dean lowers his exhausted head again as his whole body goes limp._

_“Yes,” he more sobs - his words no more than a whisper._

_“What was that? I’m afraid I didn’t hear you correctly.” Alastair’s never leaving phony decency makes Dean sick._

_“I said yes,” Dean says louder as he tries from last strengths to lift up his head to look Alastair right in the eyes._

_“Louder,” Alastair shouts as he stabs Dean into his abdomen once more._

“Yes, you son of a bitch!” Dean screams to the dark cold night, finding himself panting on the bed in sitting position, trying to gather up his thoughts. He’s home, he’s safe. He’s in his room. Nothing bad can happen to him here. He is fine.

“Dean, what happened? I heard you screaming.” Sam says, standing in the doorway of Dean’s room, his voice worried and look concerned.

“It’s nothing Sammy, go back to bed,” Dean murmurs as he throws himself back on the pillow.

“You had those nightmares again, didn’t you?” Sam asks not paying attention to Dean’s will to let him be. “You should go to see someone, Dean.”

“I’m not going to shrink, Sam,” Dean snaps at him as he rolls on the bed so he can bury his face into pillow.

“Dean, it’s been three months now. How long do you think you can go like this? You hardly sleep, hardly eat. Most of the day you look like a zombie.”

“I’m fine, Sam. End of discussion. Now go to bed and let me sleep.” Dean’s words are subdued by the pillow.

“Dean,” Sam is about to say something but the rest of his sentence is cut off by the pillow thrown to his face. He only sights and closes the door to Dean’s room, leaving to his own as he’s thinking about the best way how to persuade his brother to seek help.

******

 _Dean is back in the dark room, smell of rotten flesh piercing through his nose and agonizing laments of broken souls ringing through his ears. And he’s doing it. He’s lifting well sharpened knife, blade sparkling in the stream of light from weakening fire of torch on the wall covered with bones. A look in the woman’s eyes is pleading, her eyes filled with tears as she’s watching the blade in Dean’s hand moving closer and closer to her body. He can see the fright in her eyes. She’s begging him to stop, to have mercy, to leave her be. But Dean can’t. Not because Alastair is watching him from afar with smug smirk, not because he is afraid Alastair would put him on chains again if he does. Dean cannot stop because he doesn’t want to. He likes this. He likes torturing those people, those souls. He likes to think they are responsible for all the misery he has experienced in his God forsaken life. He likes to think he will feel better if_ _he get them what they deserve – or what he thinks they deserve. He likes this too much._

Dean wakes up all sweaty and panting heavily, his eyes glued to the ceiling of his room. It takes him a few minutes to get used to dark and then a slight feeling of relief is rushing through his body. He’s not in that horrible room anymore. He’s not torturing those innocent people. He’s not some sick kind of monster. Though he still feels like one.   
He glances over the clock and sees it’s three in the morning. He can’t go to sleep. He doesn’t want to. He’s too afraid those nightmares will hunt him again. Therefore he decides to go to bathroom and take a long cold shower. He wants to forget about the whole thing. But he can’t. Every time he closes his eyes, flashes of hell appear. He is in hell. He has no doubts about it anymore. It can’t be anything else. There can’t be any other place so cruel and so hopeless. If he only knew it would end. But he doesn’t. 

Maybe he should go to see that shrink Sam was talking about. After all, how worse it could get, right? He thought he has the worse behind and then, then those nightmares changed and he started to torture and it has been worse since then. The feeling of guilt has never left him, not entirely. He feels it even when he is awakened from the dream and he couldn’t stop thinking about it during the day. But what is worst, he feels also that joy and sick pleasure from torturing in his dreams. He feels terrible, he feels like a monster though he hasn’t done anything to earn this label. Not really. It was all dreams after all, wasn’t it?

******

Castiel opens his eyes and stretches his muscles as he wakes up from his unplanned afternoon nap in the work. He didn’t sleep very well last few days and it has only expressed on his daily performance. He is slightly inattentive and he often finds himself not listening to his clients at all, which of course never happened to him before. He just couldn’t shake off the thought of something big happening soon. He yawns a bit and straightens his plain white shirt, reaching over intercom to press the button: 

“Who’s the next client, Rachel?” he asks with his gravely husky voice.

“It would be Dean Winchester, Doctor Collins,” a young woman’s voice sounds from intercom and Castiel tenses. That name. Dean. Dean Winchester. He knows the name. But it couldn’t be. It is not possible. He couldn’t be real.

“Doctor Collins?” a voice from the intercom sounds again.

“Yes,” it breaks Castiel’s line of thoughts. “Let him in, Rachel.” he says and turns off the device.

Castiel is hypnotized by the door as it slowly opens and he stops breathing for a while as he sees the figure stepping inside of his office unsurely. Dean is tall, muscular and slightly tanned, with spiky light brown hair. He's wearing holey old jeans and plain black t-shirt, a dark red buttoned-up shirt over it. He seems strong but Castiel could see he‘s a bit humped as if he was extremely exhausted but tried not to show it. When he comes closer, Castiel could clearly see toned bags under his light green eyes and slight stubble which is in attention from a razor. But despite his scruffy looking Castiel could say a handsome man is hiding underneath. He can't help but be captured by Dean's gaze for a while and he thinks Dean's eyes would be really nice and they would look lovely sparkling in happiness if only they weren’t so tired, dull and void.

Castiel stands up and extends his hand towards the other man. “It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Winchester,” he says and he sees the other man flinches a bit at his voice, like he didn’t except it would be so deep. Dean hesitantly holds out his hand and shakes it. And Castiel suddenly feels like this guy in front of him is very important. He has an urgent feeling he needs to help him, no matter what.

“Likewise,” he hears Dean say and it pulls him out of his thoughts.

Castiel nods weakly and lets go of Dean’s hand, suddenly feeling an unpleasant cold and emptiness. He motions the other man to sit down and he does the same. He carefully watches Dean literally slid down to the chair opposite his, exhaustion visible in his movements. 

Castiel is quietly staring on Dean, waiting for him to start whenever he would like to. Dean shifts a bit in the seat, never leaving his curious gaze from Castiel’s intense one. He furrows his eyebrows a bit though, probably wondering why Castiel is looking at him like that. But Castiel couldn’t help himself. He wants to absorb the most of the man in front of him; he wants to see inside him. He wants to know everything about him. And he just couldn’t stop looking into those two emerald eyes no matter how hard he tries.

After a quite long moment of silence Dean clears his throat and finally averts his eyes from Castiel’s, looking down at his hands, carefully folded in his lap.

“Look, doc,” he starts. “I don’t even know why I’m here. I mean. I’m not really good with words and you know... sharing stuff... so, just give me some sleeping pills and I’ll go.”  
Castiel narrows his eyes a bit, scrutinizing the man in front of him silently. Dean feels the intense stare on him again, but isn’t able to meet his owner’s eyes. They are too deep. Like they were looking straight into his soul. And Dean isn’t sure he wants this guy to see what is in his soul right now.

“I will not prescribe any medicine to you, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel says finally and Dean flinches at the sound of his voice again. It just so doesn’t fit to the slender body with alabaster skin and big soul searching ocean blue eyes.

“I believe it wouldn’t help you at all, if so, only temporarily. And from what I have heard from your brother, your problem is much more consequential than any medicine could take care of.”

“Yeah well, why don’t you go to chat with my brother, then? He’s much more into this chick flick stuff.” Dean snaps out unwillingly and bits his tongue right after that, willing never to say it. This doctor may be a bit strange but he doesn’t deserve Dean treating him like a dick. He’s just so tired he can’t think straight anymore.

“I’m trying to help _you_ , Dean, not your brother,” Castiel says without thinking and he’s immediately taken aback by the unintended familiarity he has just used towards Dean. Dean seems to notice it too but he doesn’t say anything about it.

Castiel clears his throat trying to compose himself and adds: “What if you to tell me about those dreams of yours, Mr. Winchester?” he tries to recover his professionalism as smooth as he can.

Dean seems to falter for a while but then he starts to talk: “It has started three years ago. I’ve been having these dreams where me and Sammy are some kind of hunters. We are hunting monsters and ghosts and similar things. It was kind of cool from some point. You know, like some fantasy TV show playing in your head. It was kind of fun. Although, it was a bit strange, cause from some points it somehow agreed with our lives.”

“How, for example?” Castiel asks solemnly, making notes of what is Dean saying from time to time.

“Like, like for example in this dream world our mom died when we were kids in the fire which was caused by the yellow eyed demon.” Dean looks towards Castiel expecting he would probably laugh at him and call him crazy, but Castiel only nods silently. Dean takes a deep breath and continues: “Our mom really died in the fire when we were little. It was an accident, curtains in our living room got on fire from a candle and she... she didn’t make it out.” Dean pauses, remembering happier times from his life- which are long lost now.

“What about your father?” Castiel asks intruding Dean’s line of thoughts.

“He... he was a mess after mom died. He got up on drinking and... he wasn’t bad dad. He just, he wasn’t there always, wasn’t there when we needed him most. I was the one responsible for Sammy most of the time. You know, looking after him, watching him over, helping him with homework, though he didn't need that much. You know, he was always the bright one - he will be a big lawyer one day," Dean smiles slightly, but the small smile disappears immediately as he continues: "And then, dad died in job two years ago.”

“Did it also correspond with your dreams, Mr. Winchester?” Castiel makes another little note on the paper.

“Well, kind of. In my dreams he, he died exactly two years ago, after a car accident, by the hand of a demon who killed my mom to... to save me.”

“What do you mean, to save you?”

“He gave up his soul for me. I was the one who should have died. I should have...” Dean’s voice trails off as he feels tears filling his eyes but he blinks them away furiously as he doesn’t want to show weakness in front of this guy, who is again staring at him with those deep soul digging look. And suddenly Dean feels totally uncovered in front of him. He feels like this doctor guy knows exactly what he is thinking about, what he is feeling, like he knows him too well.

“Did you blame yourself for his death, Mr. Winchester?” Castiel asks him solemnly.

Dean gasps a bit from the surprise of the sudden question. “I,” Dean falters again. “I should have been the one who got shot, not him. You know, we were both cops. And... we were doing on this case of drug dealers. And we went on raid and I’ve got a bit distracted because... because I didn’t sleep well few nights in a row – because of those dreams. And I didn’t realise one guy had a gun and he almost shot me, but... but my dead somehow jumped in front of a bullet and... and he got shot instead of me. I was stupid,” Dean runs a hand over his face trying to wipe the tears away as inconspicuously as possible. “I never should have gone there when I knew I wasn’t feeling well. And you know what’s worse? He seemed he will make it. Even Sammy came back from California to visit him in hospital. It was the first time in three years he talked to him. It seemed he will really recover. And then. Just like that, his heart gave up. I don’t know what happened. It kind of seemed like he was fighting only until Sammy will come. And when he did, he thought to himself everything is in right order again. Family is together again. And he just let it go.”

“I’m sorry,” Castiel says quietly and Dean feels in his tone he really means it. It isn’t just plain words everybody says when they hear someone lost the family member. Dean feels like Castiel could rely to his pain. Like he has lost someone too. And he fights away the urge to bring it up and ask the man on that subject. He suddenly feels the urge to get to know the other guy, though he already feels the unexplainable sensation like he already knows him too well.

“When did those dreams turned into nightmares you have now?” Castiel asks suddenly, not leaving the space for Dean to come with any inappropriate questions for what is Dean greatly thankful.

“I believe it was four months ago.” Dean furrows his brows as he is counting back. “Yes. Next Monday it will be exactly four months. Sammy took some break in school to be with me. He thinks his presence will ease the nightmares or something, you know. It does a rat's ass truthfully, but I pretend it’s helping me. You know, to make him happy." Castiel can see Dean's eyes getting softer when speaking about his brother.

"You love your brother very much, don't you?" Castiel asks casualy.

"Yes," Dean answers without hesitation. "I would do anything for him. But... it seems anything I do just makes it worse.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know, Sam was studying in California and he was applying for Stanford when... when I’ve got fired from my previous job because well... I couldn’t handle it anymore – after dad and everything. And Bobby, our family friend, called him and told him what happened and Sammy came here immediately to... to look after me and he stayed. And... he should have been on Stanford right now. He is stuck on this stupid Lawrence law school just because of me instead. It’s not... I should be looking after him, not him after me. It’s just not right. I wanted him to be happy, to have his own life. And instead of that he is here, stuck with me.” 

Castiel writes down few notes and then raises his eyes, to meet with Dean’s. “What about your nightmares?” he asks. “How would you describe it?”

“Well, it’s pretty much hell... literally. I mean, it’s bloody, messy, painful, not nice to place to stay exactly.”

Castiel nods with significant “Uh, and you are tortured in these dreams?”

“I have been, yes.” Dean says almost inaudibly.

“What do you mean, ‘have been’?” Castiel raises his eyebrows.

“About a month ago they put me off the chains, because... because I have agreed to became a torturer.” Dean glances over Castiel and for the first time since the beginning of the session he sees the uneasiness in them. Right, he thinks he is a monster too. So he has it confirmed by the shrink too – great.

"The healthy man does not torture others - generally it is the tortured who turn into torturers." Castiel mumbles mostly to himself but Dean catches it anyway.

"I'm sorry, what?" Dean asks raising his eyebrows.

"Oh, it's something Carl Gustav Jung said," Castiel looks to him.

"Right," Dean nods meaningfully. "So this- Carl guy. He's a friend of yours?"

Castiel gives him an unreadable look as he speaks. "Carl Gustav Jung _was_ one of the greatest psychologists of last century; He aimed his work amongst other things also to dreams and their explanation."

"Oh," it’s all Dean manages to say, feeling his ears getting a red.

Castiel is about to say something when the intercom beeps and Rachel’s voice sounds from it again: “Doctor Collins, I’m sorry to interrupt you but Mrs. Barnes came for the session.”

Castiel glances over the clock and realises he spent with Dean over two hours. “Oh right,” Castiel tries to gather up his thoughts, but still he can’t get rid of that little importunate thought that Dean’s nightmares changes exactly a month ago, which settles a feeling of great uneasiness in him. “We will be finished right away,” Castiel says to intercom and turns it off.

“I’m sorry Mr. Winchester, but I’m afraid we have overrun our time.”

“Right,” Dean nods standing up.

“May we meet again on Tuesday?” Castiel bursts out suddenly taking Dean by surprise. He had a feeling this was one time thing and that this guy doesn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore and now he’s arranging another session with him? Dean just nods absentmindedly as he speaks: “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

“Good,” Castiel nods once. “Try to write down every of your dream and bring it with you to the session. We will look at it then."

Dean only nods, not sure what to say.

"I would really like to help you, Mr. Winchester.” Castiel says at last locking his eyes with Dean's for a long moment.

"It’s Dean.” Dean says before turning away, not really sure why. He just feels more comfortable with it.

Castiel just nods and watches Dean walks away from his office, greeting Pamela on his way and smiling slightly at Rachel as he’s slowly doddering away.


	2. Lazarus Rising

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Beta by amazing olliverwood

_„Exaggerated sensitiveness is an expression of the feeling of inferiority.“_

Alfred Adler

 

            _Pitch black and a smell of blood and burned skin all around him. Dean is back in hell. Back in the same dark musty ill-favoured room he’s been for what felt like years. He’s waiting, not sure for what. For someone to come to torture him or for someone to come to be tortured by him. He doesn’t know anymore and he can’t make himself care either. He doesn’t know how long he can go on like this. He wants to end this, he just want to die and have piece. But he knows there is no way out. No way out of this... hell. How could it be? After all, that’s what it is all about – eternal suffering._

_Dean looks over the room and notice he is completely alone. Something’s not right. Something’s changed. He perks up his ears and listens closely. He can distinguish far away cries of tortured people and never-ending agony, but something’s not quite the same. They are not cries of pain or laments for mercy. Those voices are full of hope, full of expectation. They call for help, for attention, but they are not just pleas lost in dark as usual. They are asking someone, they are looking up to someone who can help them, who is physically there with them. But that entity doesn’t seem to stop and help. It is marching forward. Dean can feel its presence within the walls covered in bones. But it is not anything Dean has ever felt. It brings peace and love to his heart, the comfortable silence and stillness he thought he would never feel again – the complete and utter harmony._

_And suddenly the feeling changes. Dean feels the pain, the fear, the determination. He can make out the sounds of fight not far from the room he’s in and he’s tempted to sneak out and look what’s happening. But something keeps him inside. Something’s telling him he should stay here and wait. But for what?_

_Sounds of fight come closer and suddenly the feeling of the peaceful warmth in Dean’s chest spreads again. He is close. But who is he? Is he a friend or foe? What is he doing here? Is he his saviour? Did he come to save him – only him? But why? Castiel – the name suddenly snaps in Dean’s thoughts. Castiel – Dean is starting to feel more and more relaxed as the feeling of warmth in his chest starts to spread through more and more. Castiel – Dean closes his eyes, he is too tired, too tired to do anything right now. From behind closed eyelids he can feel the warmth and he sees the bright light enlighten the whole room. Castiel – Dean feels the burning touch of someone’s hand on his shoulder but he doesn’t jerk away, he doesn’t fight. Because he also feels the peace and love coming from the entity next to him. And he feels he’s dragging him away and Dean doesn’t care. He trusts him. He trusts Castiel to get him to safety, to drag him out of Hell. Dean trusts Castiel with his life._

*******

_Dean opens his eyes and he can’t see anything. There is blackness everywhere he looks, but he is not in hell. Not anymore. All he can perceive is tiny space for moving and a smell of dirt around him._

_“Help!” he tries to scream but his voice fails him. He feels like he wasn’t talking or moving for months. He’s throat is tightened and sore, his limbs are completely stiffened. He tries to call for help once more, but there is no use of it. A flash of thought runs through his mind and he remembers a lighter he always carries with himself. He instinctively reaches his jeans’ pocket and bingo! – there it is._

_Dean is exhausted and hurt all over his body but his survival instinct wins. He feels the air slowly leaving the small place he is in so he has no other option as to try to escape. He switches on the lighter and his stomach clenches. He is in coffin. How is this possible? He was dead... and now he is alive? He knows it, he knows he was dead. He remembers it very vividly. The hell – the smell, the sound, the excruciating pain, he remembers very well to know it wasn’t a dream and he wasn’t buried alive. He was there, he lived it. He was dead. So why is he here, in the coffin, under the piles of dirt. Maybe – just maybe – it is another one of Alastair’s trick, to torture him even more? The air in the coffin is starting to get thin so Dean decides to think later and rather act now._

_He is scratching and digging, wishing his strength wouldn’t fail him. Not now, when he finally sees the dim light of a day. He shots his hand into the light and the warm feeling of sun is spreading across his palm, along with the slightly cold autumn breeze. And it feels like the best thing in the world right now. He pulls himself out, finally breathing a fresh air seconds before his lungs would just give up and leave him there, in the hole, few inches from the freedom. He just lays there for a few second, enjoying the warm sun on his body and infinite stocks of air, not thinking about anything for a moment._

_And then he remembers again. He was in hell and now, he’s back? It doesn’t make sense. But then again, what has ever made sense in his life? He pulls himself up to his feet feeling a bit unsteady and he looks around. There is nothing. His grave is poor, only two sticks marking the place where he rested just seconds ago. There is a slightly dry grass along the heaped little hill which was his grave. There seems nothing to be wrong around here. Until Dean looks up and sees nothing. All trees in about a mile radius seem to be uprooted. As if a very careful gale would strike this part of the forest. But the trees, they lay in perfect circle around Dean’s former grave. Almost like a meteor or something that big and scary hit the place. Dean’s stomach tightens again as he’s looking at his surroundings and it hits him suddenly – a strange unfamiliar and unimaginably strong energy flows through the place as if some invisible visitor came to look upon his creation. And Dean is not sure why, but he is not really scared. He feels discomfort at the flash of energy and he feels uncertain about what to think about it, but he is not scared. As if he knew, whatever it is, it is not here to hurt him – it is not evil._

_Dean casts aside the thought of this being a hell’s new torture surprise for him and decides he is apparently on earth, alive and healthy again. He doesn’t know who or what brought him back, but he is back and he can’t say he’s not happy about it. He should call Sammy, let him know he’s alive. Yeah, that’s a great idea. First of all, however, he needs to find  phone._

******

_The wind outside seems to be gaining on strength and the lights starts to flicker. Dean and Bobby are standing arm to arm, shotguns full of salt prepared to be used as soon as the mysterious rescuer will appear. Though Dean has a feeling it will be useless anyway, they can say they at least tried. His stomach clenches again as he feels the familiar uncomfortable strong but not entirely evil energy flew through the room._

_The wind is getting heavier and heavier and the light bulbs suddenly start to explode as the barn door flies open. And there he is. Tall wide shouldered figure with dishevelled hair and tan trench coat making its way towards two guys with the guns. They don’t wait a second and start shooting through the sparks of broken bulbs but the salt seems to do absolutely nothing to the guy approaching them. Dean and Bobby share confused looks as Dean grabs his faithful knife from the table, waiting for the mysterious guy to come closer. The guy makes his way smoothly to Dean, his wide blue eyes watching him unceasingly. Dean stares into two big blue eyes, frowning in confusion as he asks, his voice low and strict:_

_“Who are you?”_

_“I’m the one who gripped you tight and raised you from perdition,” a man answers with husky low voice._

_“Yeah, thanks for that,” Dean smirks ironically and the man in front of him nods slightly with a weak smile. Apparently they don’t get sarcasm from where he comes from._

_Dean isn’t quite sure what to do – after all, this guy saved him from hell – but on the other hand, he knows absolutely nothing about him and so far he knows he is some special kind of demon. So yeah, no one would really blame him, when he trusts his hunter’s instinct and stabs the man in front of him to the chest just out of principle. What Dean doesn’t expect is the guy doesn’t even flinch at the contact of knife in his chest. Dean goes wide eyes as the man looks down at the knife with slightly amused expression as he would find it funny that Dean tries to kill him with such a little harmless knife and pulls it out with the ease of one hand, dropping it down to the ground. Dean glances over Bobby, perplexity quite visible in his look._

_Bobby tries the next thing he has in hand – a machete. He swings it prepared to cut into the man’s flesh but mysterious guy seems to sense his action and catches the machete in the air, not averting eyes from Dean, who is still staring at him in disbelieve. Trench coated guy turns to face Bobby only to put his index and middle finger on his forehead, putting him to unconscious state. As Bobby falls down to the ground, the machete still in his hands, the guy turns back to stare at Dean, his wide blue eyes darting right into the fearful green ones._

_“We need to talk, Dean,” man says and glances over Bobby on the ground: “Alone.”_

_Dean is hovering over Bobby, checking his pulse, to make sure he’s fine._

_“Your friend is alive,” the man says from behind the table where he stands and looking through the book Bobby used to summon him._

_“Who are you?” Dean practically growls at the man standing not far from him._

_“Castiel,” he answers not averting his eyes from the book._

_“Yeah I figured that much. I mean what are you?” Dean starts to lose patience with him._

_Castiel looks away from the book right to Dean’s eyes, saying: “I’m an Angel of the Lord.”_

_Dean looks him over quickly and stands up, taking up a defensive posture._

_“Get the hell out of here,” Dean says. “There’s no such thing.” And he believes it. After all, he never met any angel in his life, however he has met plenty of demons, ghosts, wicked people and monsters. So it is definitely easier for him to think the man who stands in front of him looking like a tax accountant, the man who saved him from the hell, is just another kind of super monster which is apparently quite hard to kill._

_Castiel turns to face Dean properly, holding his stoic calmness as he says: “This is your problem, Dean. You have no faith.”And just like that thunderbolt lights the old barn and Dean is glancing in disbelieve over two big black shadows of wings growing out of Castiel’s back as they are spreading over the whole space of barn._

******

   Dean opens his eyes, for once quite well rested. It is Tuesday morning, alarm clock yet didn’t go off so Dean decides to stay in the bed for a little longer and rest. He rolls to his side and sighs. He feels strangely relaxed, like there were no nightmares the night before. And then he starts to recall his last dream. He and Bobby, his old grumpy surrogate father which he exactly is, tried to summon that damn thing which raised him from Hell. Dean smiles a bit at the thought of Bobby being in his dreams again. Bobby is practically family. He was their friend for long years and since dad died he was a big support for both Dean and Sam. Dean yet long ago stopped to think about how his friends and acquaintances from his everyday life make their way into his dreams – and how somehow magically they blend in quite perfectly. Dean’s and theirs relationships are usually same in dreams as they are in real life – well maybe except all dying and quite often returning back to life thing. As he said earlier. Those dreams are like super speed up of the horrors of his own life.

He tries to recall more from the dream and then it hits him. The angel- the angel who brought him back from hell. Castiel. Dean remembers clearly his dirty trench coat, his cheap suit under it, tousled hair and blue tie which made a great match to his big eyes. Damn it! It was Castiel, his psychologist. Why the hell Dean’s mind has to put his psychologist into the role of an angel who as he said “gripped him tight and raised him from perdition” – _“which sounds totally hot, especially with Castiel’s husky grave voice. Which is totally inappropriate to think in the first place, so stop it!”_ Dean thinks to himself.

            He decides to get up of his bed and runs towards the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower will do him better. He hopes so, because he totally doesn’t know how he will be telling that doctor guy today he was dreaming about him.

******

            “And then he said he saved me because ‘ _God commanded it’_. Because he has _‘work for me to do._ ’” Dean finishes his long monologue shifting a bit in his seat, trying not to look Castiel right in the eyes.

“And how does it make you feel?” Castiel is not averting his stare from him, which would be for quite a long time now already.

“Ehm, like what?” Dean raises an eyebrow looking at Castiel first time in a long time. “That God wants me to do something in a dream world?”

Castiel nods, staring intensively into Dean’s eyes. “Yes. How did you feel in the dream when the angel gave you this information?”

“Ehm, I don’t know. I think I was still quite distrustful of the whole situation.”

“Why? Were you afraid of him?”

“No, not exactly. I was... more like, you know, in awe from his, his wings and his powers. I mean. He was a real badass and I wouldn’t like to stand against him. Well, sure I wanted to kill him, which wasn’t probably the best welcome gesture. And if I could do it otherwise I guess I would thank him probably for you know, saving me.”

Castiel nods again, not speaking a word.

“But anyway, I don’t know. Even when he was doing his angel badass things like letting the lights explode and showing off with his wings or staring at me like, I can’t even describe it. It was just really intense staring, like he would see right through me, right into my soul and beyond.” Dean pauses for a while watching Castiel to write something down and then he adds almost inaudibly: “Like you do.” He doesn’t know why he said it out loud and he instantly regrets it as Castiel’s eyes lock with his and Dean is quite certain he heard the last sentence.

“Well, as I said,” Dean clears his throat averting his eyes again, “he was a bit strange. But I don’t know, although I was trying to kill him and those stuff, somehow I always felt the safety and comfort around him. I’ve tried to push it aside and not get distracted by it, but it was there. Like I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Like, I don’t know, like we had some kind of bond or something.” Dean gains a bit red as he finishes the sentence. _Freaking shrinks_ he thinks. _They make you say even what you don’t intent to._

Castiel gives Dean a long thoughtful look and then he frowns and tilts his head a bit to the side. Dean immediately flashes back to his dream when dream Castiel did the same and he can’t help but slap himself mentally for thinking about it again.

“You have very strangely avoided the subject of describing the angel or state his name,” a gravelly voice sounds through the room and Dean’s throat tightens. _Damn, he must have noticed!_

“Ehm, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean tries to lie, but his gaze pinned to the paperweight in the shape of an angel placed on the table is not very convincing. _Huh, what a coincidence,_ Dean laughs on inside as he’s scrutinizing the little angel on the table.

“You have described every person so far to perfect details, even Pamela, who’s your subconscious linked with Mrs. Barnes who you have met though briefly last week, but yet you lack of describing one of the most crucial person from last dream.”

“Yeah well, I don’t remember him. It was quite blurry,” Dean tries to avoid the subject as much as he can.

“All your dreams are very vivid and you always remember even the slightest details about them. I don’t believe your subconscious would blur out a person, no matter what species they are.” He pauses a bit to take a deep breath and then adds: “Plus your tightened hands around the armrest and your intense hypnotizing stare over my paperweight tells me you are tensed and you’re avoiding to meet my eyes seem very much like you were lying to me, Dean.” Castiel doesn’t even realise he said Dean’s first name again until Dean doesn’t look at him. He doesn’t know why it is so comfortable and easy to address him Dean, but he knows he shouldn’t be doing it. It is too familiar and their relationship should be strictly professional.

Dean sighs and gives up. “Okay, fine dammit. It was you-you are the one who gripped me tight and raised me from perdition.” And there it is again, that sentence, Dean must really stop thinking about it the way he does. Plus he’s looking into Castiel’s eyes now and he doesn’t see even a flash of surprise in them. He thought the other man would flinch or at least say “oh” when he reveals the truth, but he seems strangely calm and looking at him with blank knowing. _Like he already knew it was him._ Dean thinks and once again pushes back the thought of Castiel knowing to read mind.

“I see,” Castiel says finally, which tells Dean absolutely nothing.

“Well, good for you,” Dean smirks. “You like to elaborate?”

“I believe your problem is a bit deeper than this, but some psychologists believe sometimes our subconscious takes the people and our feelings to them...”

“Feelings, what feelings?” Dean snaps eyes wide.

“... sometimes our subconscious takes the people and our feelings to them and distils them into our dreams and through them it tries to deal with our feelings and thoughts which we are trying to hide or push away in our conscious state. Or it reflects our needs and desires which we do not like to represent in public.”

“Whoa, stop right there.” Dean throws his hands in general direction in front of him. “What are you telling me? That I have secret desires including you?”

“I didn’t say that,” Castiel answers solemnly but Dean is already somewhere else.

“Like really? You think I’m like what? That I think you’re hot or something?”

“Interesting,” Castiel frowns a bit at Dean’s choice of words. “But I have never said any of that. I believe you are projecting your opinions on me.”

“What am I doing?” Dean is angry now, though he is not sure why. He just feels very intimidated and he feels the urge to proclaim he has not ever thought about Castiel in that way.

“Projecting my ass.” Dean exclaims, standing up: “You are the one telling me here I have feelings for you. I know you for a week, man. What you think we share some kind of profound bond or something?”

“I don’t know. How do you feel?” Castiel asks still perfectly calm, watching Dean pacing around his office.

“I’m so not going to tell you how I feel about you and your big blue eyes which are staring right into me like you’d be reading my mind how I am distracted by your sex hair. I’m so not going to do any chick flick moments here...” Dean stops in the middle of sentence and in the middle of the walk and realises what he’s just said. He looks towards Castiel who is blushing heavily but tries to remain his calm features.

“I don’t need you to put me that bullshit in my head. I’m getting out of here,” Dean snaps suddenly and is hurrying out of the office, knocking down a smaller man with light brown hair on his way.

“Well, that escalated quickly,” Castiel says to himself as he’s watching the open door and Rachel’s surprised stare.

“Bed session?” a small man walks into the office and immediately throws himself on the leather sofa under window.

“On the contrary, just common defence mechanisms. What are you doing here, Gabriel?” Castiel asks averting his gaze from doors through which Dean stormed out just seconds ago.

“Oh, that hurts,” Gabriel makes himself sound hurt. “You don’t remember our arranged lunch, brother?”

“We don’t have an appointment, Gabriel,” Castiel says annoyed.

“You sure? You seem pretty off last few weeks, you know. I would almost say you are distracted by something. Or someone?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Gabriel,” Castiel stands to go close the door.

“Oh what about that fine piece of ass who has just stormed out of your office. I would be definitely distracted by him.” Gabriel smirks teasingly.

“Gabriel,” Castiel snaps at him turning to face him swiftly. “Don’t you dare...”

“Oh come on, bro,” Gabriel crosses his arms behind his head stretching over the sofa. “I can’t date my patients. It doesn’t mean I can’t date yours.”

“Dean is not...,”

“So he’s Dean already, huh?” Gabriel interrupts him.

“I know him only for a week. So whatever you think there is distracting me, it is not him, since it lasts longer.”

“Aha, so you admit you are distracted by something!” Gabriel exclaims triumphantly.

Castiel just sighs and leans against the door frame. He is about to say something when Gabriel voice cuts in again: “Oh you know what I have just realised?”

“Do I want to know?” Castiel asks desperately.

“Mmm- maybe.” Gabriel grins widely. “You guys already have an anniversary.”

Castiel gives Gabriel a puzzled look and Gabriel rolls his eyes and explains: “You and that Deano boy. You have a one week anniversary. You should celebrate it.”

“Gabriel, I have told you, there is nothing going on... you know what, just leave it. Will you stop talking about Dean when I will go for a lunch with you?”

“Will you tell me what was bothering you for about last month?”

“No.” Castiel says strictly.

“Fine.” Gabriel sighs and stands up from the sofa. “But be aware, brother. I have quite good observations skills. I am a psychiatrist after all.”

It is Castiel turn to roll his eyes as he grabs his tan trench coat and puts it on his bright blue sweater, opening the door and saying Rachel he will be back about an hour.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically psychologists and clients should be reffering during session to themselves by their first names, but Castiel being such a tight-ass and formal I have chosen to play it this way (:


	3. Before Tomorrow Comes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for taking too long to upload. Multiple stuff happened which I'm not gonna bore you with right now. Hopefully it won't happen again.
> 
> On the happier note, I have beta. Amazing olliverwood! Thank you very much! You are abnosome!!!
> 
> Also, you should know I totally suck at coming up with chapter titles therefore usually I borrow the title of the song, like in this case and many many more that will come.
> 
> Ok. boring stuff over. Enjoy!

_„A man who has not passed through the inferno of his passions has never overcome them.“_

Carl G. Jung

 

            Dean marches into his apartment smashing the door behind him. He aims to the right and into the kitchen opening the fridge and taking out a cold beer. Only when he turns around and leans against the kitchen unit he realises Sam is sitting behind the table, looking at him curiously.

“You okay?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dean opens his beer and gulps a long swig from it before he speaks: “That doctor you sent me to... he’s a damn freak.” Dean exclaims.

“Oh,” Sam says. “How did you manage to figure it out after two sessions?”

“That’s not funny, Sammy. He’s weird. He’s always just staring at me like he was reading my mind and he says almost nothing all the time and he’s just sitting there, looking like he just woke up and... and those big blue eyes of his. They’re fucking enormous. I mean, no normal man has eyes like this. And I swear his not blinking. I swear, for all the time I was there he didn’t blink even once. He’s like a damn marble statue with that pale perfect complexion.”

“Ooookay,” Sam extends the word, smirking widely. “I still can’t see the problem. Except he’s probably highly attractive and you have got intimidated by him.”

“What?” Dean exclaims again. “I did not. And I _never_ said his hot.”

“Neither did I,” Sam replies swiftly.

“Stop it, dude! You sound like him. ‘I didn’t say you think I am hot. That’s what you think because you are projecting it on me so you would not feel so embarrassed about it.’” Dean imitates Castiel’s deep voice.

“You literally said to him you think he’s hot?” Sam can’t stop the cackle leaving his mouth.

Dean glares at him and finishes his beer on one long gulp. “It may have slipped out of my mouth when I was a bit upset.”

“About what?” Sam tries to compose himself and stop giggling.

“That’s none of your business, Sam.” Dean snaps but Sam is persistent: “Oh come on, Dean. What could be that terrible you’ve got so upset you tell him you think he’s hot?” he laughs again at the grotesque situation. “I mean you, ladies man, telling a guy you know for a week he’s hot. That must have been priceless.”

“I don’t think,” Dean starts but loses his will to finish the sentence. “It’s those eyes, I’m telling you. It’s like he’s in my head and he’s making me telling him that stuff. I mean, he’s already gotten to my dreams.” Dean’s words slip out again.

“What?” Sam starts to laugh uncontrollably now. “Really? Oh come on, tell me at least his some wicked badass character.”

“He’s an angel.” Dean murmurs.

„A what?” Sam bursts out.

“An angel. The one who saved me from hell.”

“Huh,” Sam breaths out.

“What that suppose to mean?” Dean asks, furrowing his brows.

“Nothing. It’s just. I noticed you seem a bit better since you’ve started to visit him. I was about to ask you, but I think those sessions were helping you. And now you telling me those dreams have changed again?”

“Well, yeah,” Dean averts his gaze from Sam again. “It’s better now. At least I’m not in hell anymore. But it’s freaking weird to dream about your shrink.”

“Well it sure is,” Sam giggles again. “Just, try to overcome it, ok? I mean, I wouldn’t like to see you go back to that zombie state again. Those sessions are really working in helping you. It would be shame to cut it just because of one inappropriate slipped word.”

 _“If it was only one word,”_ Dean thinks but doesn’t say anything. He has given Sam enough to tease him about already. “I’ll think about it,” he says instead.

******

            “Hey, Dean,” Bobby greets him as Dean walks into the garage the other day. “You ok?” he seems concerned. “You seem troubled.”

“Yeah well, I keep hearing that,” Dean rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I haven’t slept well for a few nights.”

“I thought you were going to that shrink. At least Sam said so.”

“Yeah well, not anymore.” Dean sighs.

“Oh,” Bobby frowns, “well too bad for ya cause you looked much better when you did.”

“Yeah I keep hearing that too,” Dean says a bit annoyed.

So he helped him to feel a bit better. Until he didn’t freak out about God knows what exactly. And yeah, he slept much better when he was visiting him and he was actually glad he had someone to talk about his weird dreams and his fucked up situation. Someone who would really listen to him and who really wanted to help him. But it was Castiel’s job to listen to his problems after all - he was paid for it, probably a freaking good sum. He couldn’t know, because according to Castiel what Dean had was a medical condition and therefore all their session were repaid by insurance company. Anyway, it didn’t matter anymore, because he sure wasn’t about to go to him and apologize. Hell no, he shouldn’t be one apologizing, dammit. He didn’t do anything. Well maybe he said some things he would like to take back but it wasn’t his fault. Castiel was asking for it with all those intense stares and deep blue eyes. Great... and he was thinking about it again. He should really stop doing it and focus on his work. He has a plenty to do today.

******

_“Well then tell me what else it could have been?” Sam asks tiredly as this fight is going on all morning already._

_“Look, all I know is I was not groped by an angel.” Dean insists on his opinion._

_“Okay look, Dean. Why do you think this Castiel would lie to you about it?”_

_“Maybe he's some kind of demon. Demons lie.” Dean raises his voice._

_“A demon who's immune to salt rounds and devil's traps... and Ruby's knife? Dean, Lilith is scared of that thing!”_

_Yeah ok, so maybe Sam’s arguments are quite valid but it still doesn’t mean that trench coated guy is a freaking angel._

_“Don't you think that if angels were real, that some hunter somewhere would have seen one... at some point... ever?” Dean asks._

_“Yeah. You just did, Dean.” Sam doesn’t even try not to sound sarcastic._

_“I'm trying to come up with a theory here, okay? Work with me.”_

_“Dean, we have a theory.” Sam sighs heavily. How long will they be arguing about this? Why is it so hard for Dean to accept the fact he was saved by an angel?_

_“Yeah, one with a little less fairy dust on it, please.”_

_“Okay, look. I'm not saying we know for sure...” Sam starts, “I'm just saying that I think we...”_

_“Okay, okay. That's the point.” Dean interrupts him. “We don't know for sure. So I'm not gonna believe that this thing is freaking... angel of the Lord because it said so.”_

_“You two chuckleheads want to keep arguing religion, or do you want to come take a look at this?” Bobby shouts from his position on the chair back in the library, where he is looking over the books all morning trying to ignore the noise coming from the kitchen._

_“I got stacks of lore... Biblical, pre-Biblical, some of it's in damn cuneiform.” Bobby says as both men are approaching the table from the opposite side._

_“It all says an angel can snatch a soul from the pit.”_

_Dean absentmindedly touches the place on his arm where Castiel handprint lays as he asks: “What else?”_

_“What else, what?” Bobby returns the question._

_“What else could do it?” Dean elaborates._

_“Airlift your ass out of the hot box?” Bobby shrugs. “As far as I can tell, nothing.”_

_“Dean, this is good news.” Sam tries his approach again._

_“How?” Dean snaps back immediately._

_“Because for once, this isn't just another round of demon crap. I mean, maybe you were saved by one of the good guys, you know.”_

_“Okay. Say it's true.” Dean glances from Sam to Bobby, “say, there are angels. Then what? There's a God?”_

_“At this point, Vegas money's on yeah.” Bobby shrugs again._

_“I don't know, guys.” Dean laughs and turns around as he’s raising a hand to scratch his crown._

_“Okay, look,” Sam starts again, “I know you're not all choirboy about this stuff, but this is becoming less and less about faith and more and more about proof.”_

_“Proof?” Dean turns back to Sam._

_“Yes.” Sam replies._

_“Proof that there's a God out there that actually gives a crap about me personally? I'm sorry, but I'm not buying it.”_

_“Why not?” Sam asks calmly._

_Dean falters a bit as he looks over Bobby and then back to Sam. “Because why me?” he asks._

_“If there is a God out there, why would he give a crap about me?”_

_“Dean,” Sam sighs._

_“...I mean I've saved some people, okay?” Dean continues without letting Sam to say something, “I figured that made up for the stealing and the... and the ditching chicks. But why do I deserve to get saved? I'm just a regular guy.”_

_“Apparently, you're a regular guy that's important to the man upstairs.” Sam answers._

_“Well, that creeps me out.” Dean admits and you can hear it in his voice that it really_ does _creep him out. “I mean, I don't like getting singled out at birthday parties... much less by... God.”_

_“Okay, well too bad, Dean, because I think he wants you to strap on your party hat.”Sam replies._

_Dean sighs and clears his throat. “Fine. What do we know about angels?”_

_Bobby reaches over the pile of heavy old books and puts it down in front of the guys._

_“Start reading.” he says._

_“You're gonna need to get me some pie.” Dean points at Sam and grabs the first book going with it to the kitchen and starting the research._

******

“Why so lonely?” a hot, young woman asks Dean as she’s leaning over him at the bar stool.

Dean wants to answer with some cheesy comment which would win some pointless scores for him but he can’t make himself to say anything. Instead he just shrugs and keeps staring at the bartender and her long slender fingers now placed on the pipe as she is brewing a beer for some costumers. Dean isn’t even aware of the hot woman huffing something and leaving him alone as his eyes are still on the bartender. But they are not on hers perfectly rounded hips, nor on hers busty boobs. Dean’s eyes are drawn to her long slightly curled dark brown hair and her pale skin. Dean wonders what her voice is like. But he is quite sure it wouldn’t be as hot as a deep husky voice of someone he recently met. Bartender’s eyes lock with Dean’s and she sends him a slight gentle smile. Dean returns her favour but the movement of his lips is more like a sad attempt of a smile than actual smile. He still watches her carefully. She is a very attractive woman and Dean knows she would go with him whenever he wanted to. The only problem is, he doesn’t want to. She is very attractive, very similar to the person Dean would like to be with now, but she is not _that_ person. Dean locks his gaze with hers once again as she passes him a beer with sly grin and words: “On the house, handsome.” Her eyes are pale blue, but they are nice. Some would maybe say they are the most beautiful blue eyes they have ever seen. But not Dean. Because Dean have seen more beautiful, more bluer, more intense eyes. And he hates himself for thinking about it again, but it is truth. He can’t help it but he misses the piercing intensity of those two big blue balls.

“Damn shrink,” Dean murmurs to himself as he drinks his new beer on one long swig and leaves the bar before another lustful woman can approach him.

*****

            What the hell is wrong with Dean Winchester? He is pissed on that doctor guy, but much more he is pissed on himself. Ever since he had that stupid emotional outburst he can’t stop thinking about the guy. About what he thinks about it. About that maybe, just maybe, he would feel the same way about him? Nah! That’s not possible. He just can’t get him out of head. Although, his unconscious seems to think otherwise. Since he left Castiel’s office that day Dean hadn’t had a single dream where Castiel would appear. He still dreams about himself and Sam being hunters. Even Bobby is there again. And they are mentioning Castiel from time to time, but he has never showed so far. And that is what is pissing Dean the most. The thought of not seeing him again. He doesn’t know why but he can’t bear the thought of not looking into those eyes one more time, about not hearing that voice, about not seeing the man again. Dean clearly misses Castiel, though he isn’t sure why and that leaves him even more confused. He doesn’t want to go back to his office ever again. But he also doesn’t want to live with the thought of not meeting the man again.

*****

            It was a tough decision and Dean still isn’t sure about its rightness as he is standing in front of Castiel’s office on Tuesday morning.

“Good morning, Mr. Winchester,” a woman’s voice sounds behind Dean and when he turns he sees doctor’s assistant, Rachel or something like that, who he doesn’t like too much. He met her only twice but she always gives him this hard look like she is judging him and telling him he doesn’t deserve to be here. Like she would think Dean was somehow using Castiel to his own good. Which Dean doesn’t understand at all. After all, it is Castiel’s job to help him. If he didn’t want to, he would pass him to someone else, right? Dean isn’t sure why but his stomach clenches at this thought. He kind of got used to Castiel, though he doesn’t know him too long. He can’t possibly imagine going to another shrink. He couldn’t. He wouldn’t be able to tell him things he’s telling Castiel. Although, Dean isn’t quite sure why is he telling them to him either. He just feels like he can tell Castiel everything and he wouldn’t judge him. Like he could empathise with his situation. Like they were similar. Like Castiel needed him like Dean needs him, if only to listen quietly to his terrible blabbering. When Dean thinks about it right now, he realises how terrible job of a psychologist is. You listen to others’ bullshit all day long and yet you can’t talk about it with anyone else. Yet you have no one who would listen to your crap. Someone to talk to about your problems, about your dreams, about your hopes. And Dean suddenly wants Castiel to have someone like that. He not only wants him to have someone like that, he wants to be that someone who would listen to Castiel all day long, only to make him feel needed, to make him feel heard, to make him feel important. Because he is important. No matter how hard Dean wants to suppress that thought, Castiel is important for him. He’s already helped Dean more than he’d maybe thought. Dean has realised few things thanks to him already and what he knows if he wasn’t still dreaming about hell if he didn’t came to Castiel.

“Doctor Collins will come for a while. Please, wait for him here,” Rachel says, pointing to the two armchairs against the wall facing the door to doctor’s office. Dean nods and sinks into the one of the armchairs, taking a deep breath and relaxing a bit. The armchair is really comfortable and he starts to get relaxed much more, if only there wasn’t that constant typing of Rachel’s and hers deadly glares she sends his way every few minutes. Seriously, what is her problem? Dean knows he isn’t the most moral human being on the planet, but does that mean he doesn’t deserve to be saved? _Castiel_ chose him, not Rachel, so what is her problem. He didn’t need to help him if he didn’t want to. But on the other hand, what was so special about Dean that this guy wanted to help him, anyway? He leads quite pissy life and there are plenty of other people in much worse situations and with bigger issues than Dean’s are. So yeah, he kind of understands why Rachel thinks he’s only wasting Castiel’s time. But who she is he would care about her opinion, right?

            Fortunately, Rachel decided to take a break or whatever and she is soon leaving Dean alone, only with his thoughts. Dean would normally start to be a bit impatient, but now, with Rachel gone and that freaking comfortable armchair he’s sitting in he can’t make himself think about anything right now. He decides to close his eyes for a while and he doesn’t even realise when he’s slowly sinking into oblivion.

*****

               _Sam and Dean are sleeping on Bobby’s floor in his living room, if it is possible to call this place a living room. It is old, shabby and looks like it would fall apart any minute. Actually the most of those crappy motel rooms they usually sleep in are in much better condition than this, but still there is something both men would not trade even for the four star hotel room. It feels like home, something Sam and Dean never had. Something what was always just a dream for them. And now more than ever they need a place like this, because it seems the things got going pretty hard. It seems like a pretty big storm is coming their way and as usual they will play an important part in it._

_They are both exhausted from previous day, as they were dealing with the vengeful spirits of people they weren’t able to safe. They have managed to send them back from where they came, wherever it is, but it still bugged Dean. It wasn’t usual hunt and if Bobby was right, the mark on their hands meant the Apocalypse was upon them._

_Even that angel guy didn’t appear for a few days, actually since that day in the barn, so he would enlighten them. There are times when Dean thinks he only imagined him, that he is only the projection of his mind, but then he recalls how he and Bobby discharged whole magazine into him and he didn’t even flinched. Ok, so he was apparently real, but an angel? Dean didn’t want to believe that. He couldn’t. If angels exist, if freaking God exists, why would he allow to make their lives so miserable, why would he let this happen to anybody?_

_Dean hears the soft sound of flapping wings which wakes him up and when he turns he sees the familiar trench coated figure leaning against the kitchen unit. Dean quickly glances over his little brother who is still sleeping soundlessly on the couch and turns back to the figure in the kitchen who is standing still there, waiting patiently. Dean gets up and walks towards the figure slowly, still quite unsure of why is he showing up now._

_“Excellent job with the witnesses.” Castiel says casually._

_“You were hip to all this?” Dean whispers, frowning._

_“I was, uh, made aware.” Castiel nods._

_“Well, thanks a lot for the angelic assistance.” Dean says angrily. “You know, I almost got my heart ripped out of my chest.” he says pointing at his chest._

_“But you didn't.” Castiel corrects him._

_“I thought angels were supposed to be guardians. Fluffy wings, halos... you know, Michael Landon. Not dicks.” Dean replies sarcastically._

_“Read the Bible.” Castiel states, making Dean raise his eyebrows a bit. “Angels are warriors_

_of God. I'm a soldier.”_

_“Yeah? Then why didn't you fight?” Dean snaps back swiftly._

_“I'm not here to perch on your shoulder.” Castiel says, maintaining the eye contact, not even blinking. “We had larger concerns.”_

_“Concerns?” Dean’s tone is more and more angry and for the first time since the conversation started Castiel looks aside from Dean for a while. “There were people getting torn to shreds down here! And by the way while all this is going on, where the hell is your boss, huh? If there is a God...”_

_“There's a God.” Castiel replies quickly and firmly._

_“I'm not convinced.” Dean stands his ground and Castiel sighs heavily. “Cause if there's a God, what the hell is he waiting for, huh? Genocide? Monsters roaming the Earth? The freaking Apocalypse? At what point does he lift a damn finger and help the poor bastards that are stuck down here?”_

_“The Lord works,” Castiel starts but is interrupted by Dean immediately: “If you say "mysterious ways," so help me, I will kick your ass.”_

_Castiel only raises his hands in surrender as he sees this argument is quite pointless. He stays silent for a while as he lets Dean calm himself a bit. When he makes eye contact again Dean changes a topic: “So Bobby was right,” Dean makes his way slowly to the kitchen unit, moving closer to Castiel as he speaks, “... about the witnesses... this is some kind of a... sign of the Apocalypse.”_

_“That's why we're here.” Castiel nods. “Big things afoot.”_

_“Do I want to know what kind of things?” Dean asks unsurely._

_“I sincerely doubt it, but you need to know.” Castiel answers frankly._

_“The rising of the witnesses is one of the 66 seals.” Castiel explains._

_“Okay. I'm guessing that's not a show at SeaWorld.” Dean’s attempt of sarcasm goes unnoticed by the angel and Dean kind of wonders why he still tries._

_“Those seals are being broken by Lilith.” Castiel gives Dean a meaningful look and Dean nods._

_“She did the spell. She raised the witnesses.”_

_“Yes,” Castiel nods in reply. “And not just here. 20 other hunters are dead.”_

_“Of course. She picked victims that the hunters couldn't save so that they would barrel right after us.”_

_“Lilith has a certain sense of humour.”_

_“Well, we put those spirits back to rest.” Dean’s voice traces signs of hope but Castiel’s answer tramples it mercilessly: “It doesn't matter. The seal was broken.”_

_“Why break the seal anyway?” Dean isn’t still quite sure what this all means._

_“You think of the seals as locks on a door.” Castiel tries to explain further._

_“Okay. Last one opens and...?” Dean is now pretty damn sure he doesn’t want to hear the answer. How could it be something good? It never is. But he surely isn’t prepared for the answer Castiel gives him._

_“Lucifer walks free.” he says sternly._

_“Lucifer?” Dean raises his eyebrows and Castiel nods in confirmation._

_“But I thought Lucifer was just a story they told at demon Sunday school. There's no such thing.” Dean shakes his head._

_“Three days ago, you thought there was no such thing as me.” Castiel makes his point quite easily. “Why do you think we're here walking among you now for the first time in 2,000 years?”_

_“To stop Lucifer,” Dean sighs out._

_Castiel nods again: “That's why we've arrived.”_

_Dean licks his lips, nodding: “Well... bang-up job so far. Stellar work with the witnesses. That's nice,” he says as he leans his back against the kitchen unit._

_“We tried.” Castiel says slowly and firmly. “And there are other battles, other seals. Some we'll win, some we'll lose. This one we lost.”_

_Dean heaves a sarcastic laugh and Castiel keeps staring at him for a while._

_“Our numbers are not unlimited.” he says finally as he moves closer to Dean, successfully ignoring his personal space. “Six of my brothers died in the field this week. You think the armies of heaven should just follow you around? There's a bigger picture here.” Castiel leans even closer to Dean, though Dean thinks it shouldn’t be possible for him anymore, that’s how close he is and he says with grave seriousness: “You should show me some respect. I dragged you out of hell. I can throw you back in.”_

_And just like that he disappears into the thin air as fast as he appeared, accompanied only by the sound of his wings flapping. Dean blinks few times and looks over the kitchen but he is completely alone again._

_Dean wakes up suddenly back on the floor of Bobby’s living room checking the kitchen quickly but all he can see are his brother’s big feet dragging itself back to the couch. Dean sits up and runs a hand over his face realising all of the previous conversation was a dream. Although it seemed pretty damn real. Was it possible for angels to come into dreams of humans? They are angels after all, so what not?_

_“You all right?” Sam asks him as he is putting his shirt on. “What's wrong, Dean?”_

_Dean looks up at his brother and asks: “So...,” he clears his throat, “you got no problem believing in...God and angels?”_

_“No, not really.” Sam says as he’s buttoning up his shirt._

_Dean nods and continues: “So, I guess that means that you believe in the devil.”_

_Sam stops to dress himself for a while as he stares at his brother, frowning: “Why are you asking me all this?”_

Dean suddenly opens his eyes, feeling the weight of someone’s stare on him and on his surprise Castiel is hovering over him, watching him with his permanent intense stare. Dean, thinking about this still as a dream for a while, blinks few times, but since Castiel is not disappearing into thin air anytime soon, he concludes he must be fully awake.

“Are you all right, Mr. Winchester?” Castiel asks.

“Ehm...,” Dean falters for a while. If he was alright, would he even be here? Hardly. He smirks a bit at this thought and replies: “Yeah, sure doc. What’s up?”

Castiel only frowns a bit and turns to walk towards the door of his office. “Please, come in, Mr. Winchester,” he says as he holds his hand invitingly through the space of open door. Dean stands up and walks into the neat office with mahogany furniture and dark blue armchairs.

“Please, sit,” Castiel offers as he walks over the big dark desk and sits on his black leather armchair. He sits still, not even blinking, as he watches Dean carefully. Dean walks towards one of the dark blue armchairs opposite Castiel’s, but he decides rather not to sit. He isn’t quite sure how long will he be here today after all.

“Look, doc,” he breaths in heavily, “about last week...”

“What about it?” Castiel interrupts him suddenly, remaining as calm as he was a minute ago.

“Well, you know,” Dean clears his throat, trying to compose himself. “The things I’ve said to you, I didn’t...” Dean falters again as he thinks about the words he wants to say. He didn’t _what_ , exactly? He didn’t mean it? He didn’t want to burst it out like that? He didn’t want Castiel to know? ... He just didn’t know.

“You shouldn’t be bothered by that, Mr. Winchester.”

And Dean suddenly finds himself missing that Castiel is not calling him by his first name anymore. He isn’t quite sure why, but it felt kind of nice, kind of good, kind of like home, when Castiel called him by his first name. And now, now he’s back to his stick-up-his-ass attitude. Yeah sure, he shouldn’t be bothered by his stupid emotional outburst at all.

“Such reaction to therapy is quite common,” Castiel says as he stands up and walks towards the enormous bookcase on the wall next to the door. “It is although positive progress that you have expressed your emotions, Mr. Winchester. It is a good start,” he says as he is rummaging through the bookcase and pulling out one of the books.

“Here,” he says as he approaches Dean and hands him a book he took out, “read this. It will help you to manage your emotions better.”

Dean looks down at the thin book in Castiel hands and then back at Castiel. “Yeah right. I will not read any bullshit that turns me into the blabbering chick. No thank you.”

Castiel suddenly takes a one step closer to Dean and Dean can’t notice how close he stands right now. He can already feel Castiel’s body warmth on his skin and suddenly it feels too intimate. As soon as he catches his glance though, he knows that is not what it seems like. Castiel’s look is hard and adamant.

“You should show me some respect,” he says gravelly and Dean feels his warm breath on his face. He feels intimated but at the same time he can’t stop looking down at Castiel’s soft lips and how they are moving and curling while producing those words. “I have chosen to help you, but I can’t until you will not be willing to help yourself. If you really want to get better, you need to want to be saved. You need to do something for it. Or else, you are free to go. It’s your call.”

Dean blinks few times not knowing how to react properly. So many thoughts are swirling in his head right now. From the sound of Castiel’s voice and the thought of how hot it is when he is practically growling angrily at Dean, through the meaning of his words and the impact it has on him, to the fact Castiel just literally quoted his dream self.

“What if I don’t think I deserve to be saved?” Dean asks suddenly before he can think about it further and he sees Castiel’s eyes softening at this question.

“Why would you think that, Dean?” Castiel asks frowning, forgetting to keep his posture as Dean’s name slips from his lips again. He leans back slightly, looking at Dean worriedly.

“Because,” Dean sighs, “why me? There are much more important people in this world who needs help. Why have you chosen to help _me_?”

“Because you asked,” Castiel answers simply and that leaves Dean speechless.

“ _You_ have come to me asking for help, not those other people, Dean,” Castiel says firmly but reassuringly. “And I’m glad you did,” he adds almost inaudibly but still loud enough for Dean to catch it, altogether with a slight blush creeping on Castiel’s cheeks as he turns away and walks towards his armchair behind the desk.

Dean isn’t sure what to say for a while so he decides to look over the book that ended up in his hands. After few moments of silence pierced only by the sound of the pages turning, Dean closes the book and looks up to Castiel realising he was watching him all the time, his expression very close to what Dean would call fascination.

Suddenly Dean recalls a particular moment from before and bursts out: “Are you a mind reader?”

Castiel tilts his head a bit in confusion and it makes Dean’s stomach tingle joyfully, but he reminds himself not to think about these stuff immediately as he still doesn’t know if Castiel can read his mind or not, not minding how absurd it sounds.

“I can assure you I have no such ability,” Castiel answers. “Why are you asking this, anyway?” he sounds curious and a bit unsure.

“No big deal,” Dean smirks. “It’s just this feeling I have from time to time, when I feel like you knew exactly what I’m thinking of or what happened in my dreams even before I tell you.”

“Oh,” Castiel lowers his eyes for a while then looks at Dean fully again, his fingers carefully entwined together and placed on the desk. “I am just very good in observing others’ behaviour, that’s all.”

“Right,” Dean nods absentmindedly as he speaks further: “Or just like a moment ago. When you said that thing with respecting you. I know it’s a bullshit but for a while I would swear you have just quoted your dream self from the dream I have just few minutes ago when I have passed out in your waiting room.”

Suddenly Dean can see Castiel tenses and he apparently starts to get nervous as he lets go of his hands and runs one of them through his hair making them even more messy as he tries to find an adequate answer to Dean’s observation.

“Well, I,” Castiel is avoiding Dean’s look and desperately tries to find something to say what would persuade Dean enough to leave this topic be, “I guess it was just a lucky guess,” is all he can come up with right now.

“Right,” Dean frowns a bit but lets it go for now, although he can’t let go of the feeling something is definitely not quite right with this situation.

“Ok, doc,” he says eventually, “see you next week, then?”

“Sure,” Castiel nods, still looking a bit shaken. But Dean doesn’t say anything else. He turns around and walks out of the office leaving Castiel alone with his thoughts. And he surely has much to think about.


	4. Shed Some Light On Me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, so sorry it took so long, but I got terribly sick and then I needed to caught up on school stuff.
> 
> Anyway, no warnings for this chapter, just some 15+ scences, but nothing too explicit. Uhm, oh yeah. And thanks to amazing ghostlyweasley (former ollliverwood) for beta!!!! You rock!!! :)

_“Dreams are often most profound when they seem the most crazy.“_

Sigmund Freud

 

            Dean didn’t sleep very much last few nights. Fortunately, it wasn’t the bad dreams or nudging thoughts that kept him awake. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but the book Castiel gave him was quite interesting and Dean finds himself reading it until late night day after day. And he wouldn’t admit it too, but he kind of likes having some kind of hobby besides his work. He loves working at Bobby’s garage, but when he comes home he would like to turn off a bit and maybe think about something else than cars’ parts for a while or his crappy life. And since Sammy started to go out at evenings on those studying sessions – at least that was what he told Dean it was – Dean’s apartment was awfully empty and quiet and Dean desperately needed something to keep him from possible unwilling wandering thoughts. So yeah, he wasn’t really complaining. But he was also glad this day wasn’t that hard and he had some time to take some break just to lie down at the back seat of the car he has just finished working on and closes his eyes for a while.

_“What is this?” Dean asks still short of his breath._

_“What does it look like?” Castiel asks calmly._

_“Is it real?”_

_“Very.”_

_“Okay, so, what, angels got their hands on some Deloreans? How did I get here?” Dean is desperate for some answers._

_Castiel looks away and sighs a bit: “Time is fluid, Dean. It's not easy, but we can bend it on occasion,” he says slowly._

_“Well, bend it back.” Dean snaps. “Or tell me what the hell I'm doing here.” he demands some straight answer from the angel._

_“I told you. You have to stop it.” Castiel says still perfectly calm._

_“Stop what?” Dean is losing his nerves. “Huh? What- is there something nasty after my dad?”_

_A sudden honk of the car and screeching of tyres makes Dean look away from the angel for a second and when he looks back he is not there anymore._

_“Come on. What, are you allergic to straight answers, you son of a bitch?!” Dean shouts to the thin air as he looks around himself but there is no Castiel to be found._

            Dean wakes up suddenly realising he is back on the back seat of the car in Bobby’s garage. He couldn’t be out more than few minutes, at least he hopes so. Unfortunately it was apparently long enough for Bobby to notice and now he’s going get it. As he sits up to straighten his back, prepared for the speech about not sleeping during the work, he notices two black boots and black suit trousers and realises man standing in front of him isn’t Bobby at all. Dean flickers up to meet man´s eyes and is shortly shocked when he meets with two familiar blue ones.

“Hello, Dean,” an all too familiar gruff voice sounds, following by the simple question which however gives Dean the creeps: “What were you dreaming about?”

“No way I’m telling you,” Dean snaps as he shrugs away the sleep and gets out of the car walking towards the table with his tools and a bottle of water. “Not now anyway,” he adds along the way. “It’s not your time, doc.”

As he reaches to the bottle of water he however can’t shake away the feeling Castiel already knows what he was dreaming about. He seriously needs to stop thinking about this mind reading shit.

“What are you doing here, anyway? Are you some kind of weirdo who’s stalking me?” a thought runs through Dean’s mind and he says over his shoulder, still backing Castiel: “ _Are you_ a creep who’s watching other people sleep?”

Castiel just furrows his brow and does his usual head tilt.

“Nah, forget it,” Dean rubs his eyes to take away last signs of sleep. “It’s just the second time I have woken up and saw you standing in front of me.”

“You should consider not falling asleep at public places then,” Castiel answers gravely.

Well, this guy has apparently a bit more sense of sarcasm then his dream self. Dean gives out a little laugh and turns to face Castiel, drinking his water along the way. He takes a long swig when he notices Castiel’s wardrobe and he almost chokes on his drink. Castiel is totally dishevelled, as he has been just doing something inappropriate, dressed in a cheap black suit and slightly unbuttoned white shirt. He even has that damn loosened blue tie which of course is not straight. And as this is not enough, he has also that ugly tan trench coat. He looks very much, actually totally, as his dream self.

“What... the hell... dude?” Dean manages to say between the chokes. At Castiel’s not comprehending head tilt he decides to elaborate. “What the hell happened to you, man?”

“Oh,” Castiel realises what is Dean referring to and he looks down at his messy clothes. “My... my car broke down and I,” Castiel turns a bit red, “I’ve tried to repair it. But, I am afraid I had just made it worse.”

Dean can’t help but laugh heartily at the thought of Castiel standing over his car, his head tilted to that particular angle, as he is trying to figure out where the problem is.

“Here, take this,” Dean throws him a towel as he notices Castiel’s slight stubble is covered in oil on some places and there is even a little spot on his nose. Seriously, how he managed to do that?

“You look like you have just lost the fight with gas filler,” Dean teases him cheerfully. He definitely didn’t expected to meet Castiel here of all places, not yet in the condition he is now. But it definitely made his day.

Castiel cleans his face thoroughly and hands towel back to Dean who puts it down on the table next to the tools. Dean however notices a missed spot on Castiel’s cheek, still covered in oil and he hands him dark blue headscarf he always carry with him.

“You still have some oil here,” Dean shows the spot on himself and Castiel raises the cloth to clean the spot but of course he aims for the other cheek.

“No, no, the other side,” Dean laughs a bit. This is quite priceless. Castiel tries desperately to clean the spot Dean is referring to, but fails again. Dean knows there is surely some old mirror in the back and it would take only few seconds to go get it, but he already watches his hand rising towards Castiel’s as he is taking the headscarf and moving closer to the man in front of him.

“Here, let me,” he says softly as he’s raising his hand to Castiel’s cheek. Castiel eyes him carefully, his breath short and lips slightly parted. Dean swallows hard as he’s moving closer to the oiled spot on Castiel’s skin, rubbing it gently with the cloth in his hand. Although he finishes his job almost immediately, he finds himself reluctant to move his hand away as his fingers are slightly touching the warm flesh of Castiel’s skin. Dean’s look wanders to Castiel’s lips once again and he sees Castiel’s tongue sticks out a bit to water the lips of its owner hesitantly. Dean does the same only more confidently and quickly. He looks over Castiel only to see his eyes are focused on Dean’s lips. Would it be he has the same thoughts about Dean as Dean has about him? Dean tries to fight the urge to kiss the other man. He wants to pull away, to turn away and pretend like this never happened. But what he wants more is to smack their lips together and smash Castiel’s back over the side of that car next to them, claiming his mouth for his and run a hand through those dishevelled dark hair, making them stick to every possible angle as he would explore the other man’s mouth with his tongue, making him moan under his touch.

“Dean,” grumpy voice sounds from behind and Dean is flashed back to reality hard and fast. He quickly pulls down his hand and steps away from Castiel just in time for Bobby not notice anything, at least Dean hopes he didn’t.

“Here you are boy,” Bobby exclaims. “I’ve been looking for ya for about five minutes. There’s a new car in the front which needs to be fixed. Who’s this guy?” he asks as he notices Castiel.

Dean clears his throat and flashes a little glance at Castiel who has his stone look again, like nothing has just happened.

 “This... this is Doctor Collins, Bobby. My, ehm, psychologist.”

“Oh,” Bobby frowns. “Nice to finally meet ya, kiddo,” Bobby extends his hand and Castiel gladly accepts it. “Bobby Singer. Everything’s fine with Dean?” Bobby’s voice is concerned as he shakes Castiel’s hand.

“Everything is in perfect order, I can assure you, Mr. Singer,” Castiel says firmly. “Well, except my car, apparently,” he adds.

“Oh, so that’s your beauty out there?” Bobby asks pointing to the direction the car supposed to be.

“Indeed,” Castiel nods.

“Well, don’t worry then. It will be fixed soon. It is not big problem. Dean here will look over it, is that right, boy?” Bobby asks turning his head towards Dean.

“What?” Dean is snapped from his thoughts again. “Yeah sure, no prob, doc.” he smirks a bit and watches Bobby nods.

“Well then, it was a pleasure to meet you, doctor,” Bobby says shaking Castiel’s hand once again and taking his leave. Dean is watching him until he doesn’t disappear behind the corner and is again interrupted from his thoughts by Castiel’s voice: “May I watch you as you’ll be working on it?”

Dean turns to face Castiel, an expression of blank surprise on his face: “You wanna watch _me_ fixing _your_ car?” Dean asks raising eyebrows.

“If it is not much trouble for you,” Castiel says unsurely.

“You’re not the kind of freak who’s gonna getting off on me fixing the car, are you?”

Castiel eyes go wide for a second as he blushes heavily averting his gaze from Dean: “Of course not,” he says. “I’d just like to learn something. So I can maybe fix it next time it will break.”

“Trust me, doc. When I will fix it, it won’t break again,” Dean smirks. “Well, ok then.” he sighs a bit, “but lose some layers. It may get messy out there.”

And there it is again, that adorable head tilt so typical for Castiel as he looks at Dean quizzically.

“Just take your damn coat off. You look like a flasher in it, either way,” Dean rolls his eyes.

“Oh,” Castiel looks over his clothes, his eyes saddening a bit.

“Have I said something?” Dean furrows his brows.

“No, it’s just,” Castiel takes a deep breath, “it’s the only thing I have left after my father.”

Dean is suddenly hit with the shot of guilt. “I’m sorry,” he apologies quickly. He would like to say something more, but he is at loss of words.

“It’s ok. You didn’t know.” Castiel says quietly and takes off his coat.

It kind of amazes Dean how differently Castiel looks outside the office. So much less confident and so much more unsure. Like a little child lost in the world.

“You should take off also your jacket and tie, if you don’t wanna mess it up,” Dean says grabbing Castiel’s coat and hanging it next to his leather jacket on the hanger. He runs a hand through his jacket which is also the last sad memory of his father’s existence for him and smiles sadly. They are apparently much more similar than he first thought. When Dean turns back to Castiel he can see him just taking off his suit jacket and placing it on the table beside him, taking focus on his tie. Dean can’t avert his eyes from the long thin fingers grabbing the hems of the tie and pulling it, slightly loosening it and for a while Dean wishes he could do it instead Castiel. Dean’s eyes lock on the flesh of Castiel’s bare neck and he notices a peaking collar bone from under the shirt. Dean swallows hard and lets his eyes roaming over Castiel further. The shirt is a bit big to him so his figure doesn’t stand up so much but Dean can clearly see wide shoulders firming under the cloth and a lean body. He wonders briefly if Castiel is muscular, but he would bet all his money on yes. Dean watches as Castiel is pulling up his sleeves and he sees inches and inches of pale flesh uncovering for him.

“Are you alright?” Dean is drawn back to reality by Castiel’s voice and his eyes meet with Castiel’s once again.

“Yeah, sure. Let’s do this, Cas,” Dean doesn’t even notice how that nickname slips out of his mouth. Castiel seems to notice but he chooses not to say anything to that topic so Dean leads him to the place where his car is already prepared and waiting for the repairing.

“Ok so, come over here, man. We will look at her.” Dean says nonchalantly and leans over the hood of the cute little blue Volkswagen Beetle, waiting for Castiel to do the same. What he doesn’t expect however is the other man ignoring his personal space completely and standing right next to him, their shoulders touching. And Dean can’t possibly stop the warm feeling it gives him in his stomach.

They are hovering over the motor yet a long while, Dean explaining to Castiel parts of it and what common problems with it might be and Castiel listening closely, saving every knowledge in his memory carefully. From time to time when Dean points to some place Castiel follows his hand as to ask on something and their hands accidently touch. And Dean can’t deny the goose bumps these little spontaneous touches give him.

After some time spend on the car they finish their work and Dean feels kind of sad that he must move away from Castiel’s proximity. He doesn’t make it show however as he cleans his hands to the piece of cloth on the table behind him and motions for Castiel to follow him back behind.

“Well, that was pretty much it. It’s not a big deal. You just need to know where to stick what, basically,” Dean says and when he looks at Castiel he sees him blushing slightly. It is then when Dean’s words lay upon him and he notices theirs ambiguous meaning. He turns all kinds of red immediately as he quickly turns away from Castiel and murmurs something about Jo rendering him account at the front desk.

“Thank you, Dean,” he hears a soft low voice behind him and his heart jumps a bit at the kindness and meaningfulness of them. He really helped Castiel. For once it wasn’t only that Castiel was always helping him, listening to his bullshit. Dean just returned him the favour and he couldn’t suppress the warm feeling it gave him.

“You’re welcome, doc,” he says, still not daring to look at him.

“See you on Tuesday,” Dean adds and leaves to make whatever he has to do just to keep his mind from this man.

******

          Castiel is reading the paper carefully, his eyes flickering from one side to another.

“So, your dreams last few nights have been set in the past, you say?” he asks as he raises his eyes from the paper to Dean.

“Uhm,” Dean nods. “You... I mean, the dream you, has sent me to past to stop something.”

“Stop what?” Castiel asks curiously.

“That dick didn’t tell me.” Dean snaps. “I mean, I didn’t mean it like you are a dick too, you know.” he murmurs to himself.

“That’s ok. I understand.” Castiel says calmly.

“Do you?” Dean raises his eyebrows, his voice a bit sharp. “Cause I wouldn’t like you to think that I am projecting my opinions on you again,” he says a bit sarcastically.

Castiel sighs and puts down the paper. “I can assure you, I would not think anything like this.”

Dean huffs out an ironic laugh but Castiel just looks at him harder and says more strongly: “I have never intended to plant any of my thoughts into your mind, as you stated the last time.” he pauses for a while as he is watching Dean carefully and then he continues: “And I will never do. You need to understand all that comes from your mouth comes from you. It is your thoughts, your opinions, though you may be afraid to admit them out loud. They are there and you should not be ashamed of them.”

Dean’s features are hard as he is glaring at Castiel, his arms defensively crossed on his chest, as he is listening to Castiel’s monologue.

“We are here in, uhm, what we could call a free judgment zone.” Castiel says. “I don’t want to hold you back. And I can assure you I will not make any conclusions from anything you’ll say here. I may assure you I am more than used to various outbursts of emotions from my clients. As long as it helps you to move on and as long as it helps the progress, you are free to say or do whatever you feel is right. Now,” he takes a pause for a while, “would you like to tell me what is bothering you? You seem more snarky than usual.”

Dean sits there for a while without saying a word as he is quite taken aback by Castiel words, but eventually he grumbles: “I’m fine.”

“Very well then,” Castiel sighs a bit in defeat but he is not giving up on Dean and he tries another approach. “What if you told me something about the last dream you had, then? You said there was a yellowed eyed demon, the one who killed your mom, if I recall right.” Castiel watches Dean nods in approval and continues: “What do you think was his purpose in your dream?”

Dean is silent for a while. “I don’t know. He wants something from my parents apparently. Something I am supposed to stop as your dickery dream double said,” he says still a bit sharper than necessary.

“What do you think it is you are supposed to stop?” Castiel is still watching him carefully.

“Jesus Christ, I said I don’t know. Are you friggin’ deaf?” Dean shouts out losing his nerves for a while as he moves on the chair, for a while contemplating the thought of standing up and leaving.

“Dammit, I’m sorry,” he says silently after a while when he recomposes himself, putting his face into his hands placed on his knees. “I didn’t mean to ...”

“Did it help you?” Castiel is ignoring his apology.

“I’m sorry?” Dean raises his head to meet Castiel’s eyes.

“Do you feel better?”

“I... yeah, I do. But... I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have yelled,” Dean lowers his gaze.

“That’s ok. I have told you I am used to...”

“No it’s not,” it’s Dean’s turn to interrupt the other man as he looks him right in the eyes, his look determined but not harsh. “I mean, it’s not fair. Nobody deserves to be shouted at like this for whatever reason. You... you don’t deserve that. You want to help those people... and they are mean to you.”

“To their defence, not all of them are mean to me,” Castiel says quietly.

“So now you’re telling me it’s only me who is douchey to you?” Dean asks. “Great, cause that made me feel so much better, thank you very much.”

“Dean,” Castiel says firmly to stop Dean from any more blabbering. “You said it good. I want to help those people. I want to help _you_. And if this... help... involves shouting or curses pointed at my person from time to time, I’d take it. And as long as it helps them... _you_... to feel better, I’d take it anytime.”

“But,” Dean wants to say something but Castiel interrupts him again.

“It is my job and I have chosen it so I will bear the burden of its consequences.” Castiel says firmly not leaving Dean any more room for more complaints.

“I’m sorry,” he says silently instead. “It’s just, these last dreams. They bring up some old memories I wouldn’t like to think of, that’s all.”

“What do you think was a starter for these particular kinds of dreams?” Castiel asks regaining his everlasting calmness.

“I am not sure I’m following you, doc,” Dean furrows his eyebrows.

“Usually dream events reflect something what happened in our day life and it reflects to our consciousness during the night. Was there anything what made you maybe remember your parents in last few days?”

Dean is thinking hard about it for a while and as the memory flashes through his mind his eyes widen a bit. “Well, actually, there was anniversary of our mom’s death and me and Sammy, we’re visiting her grave on Friday.”

Castiel only nods and looks back down to his notes, writing down something.

“You think that’s the reason I am dreaming about her now?” Dean asks unsurely.

“I’m sure there is more into to,” Castiel replies as he looks up to meet Dean’s eyes.

“How did it make you feel? To visit your mother’s grave again?”

“I... I’m not sure,” Dean replies. “Well of course I was sad. I mean I have hardly known her since she died so young, but... I feel regret for Sammy more as he didn’t get to know her at all. He didn’t have chance to live a normal life. I just, I wish I could have stop it,” a single solitary tear falls from Dean’s eye as his voice breaks.

“Stop what?” Castiel implies and Dean then realises how his dream truly indicates his life situation.

“I... I wish I could have stopped it. I wish I could have done something so she would still live. So we wouldn’t have to live without her for so long.” Dean feels more tears streaming down his face, but he doesn’t care anymore.

“It’s not your fault your mother passed away. You can’t blame yourself for it,” Castiel says and Dean feels the warmth of his words.

“Don’t you wish you have done something so your father wouldn’t die?” Dean bursts out suddenly. “I´m sorry,” he apologizes immediately as he sees Castiel stiffen a bit.

“That’s alright. I have meant it when I said you are free to say or do whatever you want here.” He falls silent for a while as he would be remembering some old sad memories: “He didn’t die. At least as long as I know,” he says finally, “He just left. And yes. I have been blaming myself for it for a long time. But now I know I couldn’t have done anything. Sometimes people just chose to leave for their own reasons. Sometimes,” he falters a bit, “sometimes it is just their time to go, no matter what we do.” Dean feels the bitterness in his words and he knows there is yet another story behind it which he would love to know, but he also knows he can’t push Castiel into telling him. It is about Dean, not Castiel, in the end.

“I am sure your mother wouldn’t like to see you blaming yourself like this for her death,” Castiel says suddenly with new found strength in voice. “She would like to see you having a good and happy life, not letting yourself be consumed by past.”

Dean only watches Castiel for a while, not daring to say anything. The silence between them is however very comfortable, like they would know to communicate even without words. Dean finally nods and wipes away the last drops of tears which are still covering his freckled face.

“So I can’t stop it, can I?” Dean asks and it takes a minute for Castiel to realise he is referring to dream.

“I’m afraid not. Destiny can’t be changed.” Castiel says with lowered gaze.

Dean nods and stands up. “Thanks, doc,” he says as he turns to leave.

“See you next Tuesday,” he can hear Castiel say behind him as he is leaving the office.

******

_Dean suddenly wakes up in his bed, back in the motel room, his breath short and heavy. He glances over the room noticing a trench coated figure standing next to bed, contemplated in his thoughts. Dean recomposes himself and sits on the bed._

_“I couldn't stop any of it. She still made the deal... She still died in the nursery, didn't she?” he asks._

_“Don't be too hard on yourself. You couldn't have stopped it.” Castiel says._

_Dean slowly stands up from the bed and asks, his brows furrowed: “What?”_

_“Destiny can't be changed, Dean.” Castiel responds slowly as he turns to face Dean. “All roads lead to the same destination.”_

_“Then why'd you send me back?”_

_“For the truth. Now you know everything we do.”_

_“What the hell are you talking about?” Dean snaps angrily. Castiel doesn’t respond however- just looks to the other empty bed in the motel room. Dean follows his gaze and realises his brother hasn’t been there the whole time. “Where's Sam?” he asks as he looks back at Castiel._

_Castiel responds quickly as he is still looking at the empty bed: “We know what Azazel did to your brother. What we don't know is why...,” he glances back at Dean and finishes, “What his endgame is. He went to great lengths to cover that up.”_

_“Where's Sam?” Dean insists._

_“425 Waterman.” Castiel says simply and doesn’t even look at Dean as he walks by him, grabbing his jacket._

_“Your brother is headed down a dangerous road, Dean.” he says as Dean is dressing up himself. “And we're not sure where it leads. So stop it,” he glances on Dean who is now checking his gun, “...or we will.”_

_Dean meets his gaze and swallows hard. There is definitely something wrong with Sammy, he knows it now._

******

          Dean is approaching the table behind which Rachel is typing something furiously. As he comes to her she raises her eyes and her glance get immediately harder as she narrows her eyes at him and says: “I don’t believe you have an appointment, Mr. Winchester.”

“I know,” Dean sighs heavily. “I was... I was just in neighbourhood and I thought I may come to return the book doctor lend me.”

“Well doctor Collins is busy right now, so...” she starts but Dean interrupts her.

“I know, I mean, I could just leave it here, so you can hand it to him later.”

She gives him an awfully suspicious look, thinking about what to say to him, when the door behind them suddenly opens and Dean turns to see Castiel standing in it.

“I thought I have heard your voice, Mr. Winchester,” he says.

“Yeah, hi, doc. Just passing by, never mind me,” Dean smirks a bit but Castiel can see something is clearly bothering him.

“Please, come in, Mr. Winchester,” Castiel says as he motions for him to enter.

“I don’t think it’s necessary,” Dean says.

“Please, I insist,” Castiel says firmly and when Dean glances over Rachel he can see her literally pouting angrily at him. Yeah ok, he can do it, just to make her feel worse. He sends Castiel a little smile and enters the office waiting for him to close the door behind him. He can see the pile of papers on Castiel’s table and a sudden feeling of guilt washes over him.

“I’m sorry, I don’t want to waste your time, doc,” Dean says. “I have just brought you the book you borrowed me.”

Dean hands him the book and waits for Castiel to take it.

“Oh, of course,” Castiel exclaims as he is taking the book from him. “So, did you like it?” he asks, a visible curiosity in his eyes.

“Well yeah,” Dean sighs running a hand through his hair, “I actually did, very much.”

“I’m glad you did,” Castiel says and sends a small smile towards Dean. “You are welcome to borrow any other books you will find interesting,” he says as he walks towards the bookcase and put the book on its place.

“Thanks, doc, I sure will. I just don’t want to interrupt you anymore now. I see you have lots of work here.”

“Oh that,” Castiel glances over the table. “Yes, I do.”

“Paperwork’s a bitch, isn’t it?” Dean smirks and he is amazed by the frank laugh he hears from Castiel. “It sure is,” he agrees. “But I’ll manage.”

“Yeah, what else can you do, right?” Dean says and Castiel only nods looking to the ground for a while, playing with the thought of asking or not on what he is curious about.

“Well, I will leave you then with your paperwork doc, so,” Dean says and passes by Castiel prepared to leave when he feels a warm touch of hand on his shoulder and he stops in his tracks.

“How did you sleep last night?” Castiel asks quietly.

“What?” Dean gasps turning around to face Castiel making him to move his hand away. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just... I can see you are a bit troubled. And I was wondering...” Castiel voice trails off.

“If it is still about my mom?” Dean finishes.

“You don’t need to tell me,” Castiel says quickly looking down on ground.

“Nah, that’s ok,” Dean interrupts him. “It’s ended.” he pauses for a while. “I didn’t stop it. I couldn’t have.”

“Is it still bothering you?” Castiel asks calmly but with frank curiosity, making a full eye contact again.

“No, that’s not that,” Dean responds. “It’s just,” he pauses again as if he wasn’t sure he wants to continue, “I think it’s Sam. I think he’s hiding something from me. And I don’t think it’s something good,” he says.

“How do you know that?” Castiel asks furrowing his eyebrows.

“I’m... not sure,” Dean responds sighing heavily. “It’s the little things, you know. Like he’s going out for almost whole night. He doesn’t want to talk about it. Every time I ask he says it’s studying sessions but I don’t believe him. I mean, studying sessions so often and so long? And so late at night? I don’t buy that.”

“What do you think it is then?” Castiel asks.

“I don’t know,” Dean shakes his head, his shoulders slumped in desperation as he is looking down to the ground. “But I don’t have a good feeling about it.”

Dean feels that hand on his shoulder again and when he looks up he sees Castiel’s eyes full of understanding and compassion.

“You will fix it. I believe in you.”

Dean only nods and smiles slightly. “Thanks, doc.” he glances over the table again and then back to Castiel: “I will leave you to do your job now. What do I owe you?”

Castiel’s brows his furrows as he shakes his head: “What? Nothing. You owe me nothing.”

“But,” Dean starts, “you have taken me when I wasn’t appointed and...”

“It’s ok, Dean. Don’t be bothered by it.”

Dean fights the urge to hug the man. He is so good to him and all Dean does is yelling at him and calling him a dick. He so doesn’t deserve Castiel’s help, yet he is willing to help him, even without any compensation.

“Thank you, Castiel,” Dean says quietly, watching Castiel’s eyes go softer for a brief moment before he turns away and aims for his table.

“You’re welcome, Dean.” he murmurs almost inaudibly as he sits down behind his big mahogany table and starts to ramble through the papers again.

Dean watches him for a while, a slight warm smile on his face, contemplating the sight in front of him, and then he turns and walks away feeling much lighter about his problems then the moment he walked in.


	5. Reigns Over Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: drinking as the way of coping

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am terribly sorry, I just had things over my head, couldn't really find time to update. 
> 
> Beta, as always, by amazing ghostlyweasley.

_„Understanding does not cure evil, but it is a definite help, in as much as one can cope with a comprehensible darkness.“_

         Carl Jung

 

            Dean slowly pulls off in the middle of an empty campus and turns off the engine. It’s almost midnight and as he looks around he can’t see anyone else there. Who would have wandered to the campus park in the middle of the cold October night anyway? Well, apparently Dean’s little brother would.

Dean gets out of Impala and looks around once again. He shivers as the chill night’s air gets under his jacket. Since he still can’t see anyone around he marches to the arbour he saw Sam going to. As he reaches the arbour he can depict silhouettes of two dark figures standing there, talking. He’s too far to depict any words or even recognize the other, much smaller figure standing in front of his brother. Is it possible Sam was going to dates all this time? Dean can’t deny he would be happy if this was the case – his brother had even worse social life then Den himself. But why would he lie to Dean about this? He just couldn’t wrapped his head around this.

            When Dean reaches the stairs to the arbour he stops in his tracks dumbfounded. Sam and the girl notice him and he can clearly see the flash of terror in Sam’s expression as he exclaims: “Dean! What are you doing here?”

“That’s the question I would like to ask you, Sam.” Dean snaps back, never leaving his hard stare from Sam. “Or maybe you should tell me what the hell are you doing here with _her_?” Dean motions to the girl standing next to Sam, not sparing her with even a glance.

“Hi, Dean,” the girl says sickly sweetly as she sends him a smug smirk. “Nice to see you again.”

Dean finally looks at her and his stare hardens even more: “Hey, Ruby.” he says dryly, “nice hair. When did you make it? Before or after you poisoned Sam with any more lies of yours?”

“Dean,” Sam exclaims making a step forward to Dean, raising his hands in surrender, “just calm down,” he says.

“Calm down?” Dean chuckles ironically. “How long, Sam?”

“That’s none of your business, boy,” Ruby interrupts and Dean’s eyes light with fury.

“You little bitch, I’ll show you whose business it is,” he marches towards her but Sam stops him.

“Dean, let her be,” he exclaims. “Ruby,” he glances over her, “just go.”

Ruby switches few glances between two of them and then turns to leave, not forgetting to send a “goodbye” smirk to Dean.

Dean is watching her leave for a while and then he turns to Sam. He isn’t sure what he wants to do. He would like to punch him in the face, to shout at him, grab him and shake with him until he would come to his senses, he just doesn’t know with what to start first. After a long silent stare Dean turns around to leave, without saying a word. He hears Sam walking behind him but he doesn’t look back, he doesn’t say anything. They get in the car and Dean turns on the engine driving off, not even turning on the radio.

            The drive is dead silent as none of them say anything the whole time, only the sound of the engine is sounding in their ears. First time one of them finally speaks they are already in the apartment. Dean is standing next to the cabinet in the living room where the old lamp stands, backing Sam who has just walked into the apartment.

“How long, Sam?” Dean asks silently.

“Since I’ve got here.” Sam replies truthfully. It is not any point in hiding it now.

“Whole four months?” Dean asks looking into mirror in front of him.

“Yes.” Sam replies simply.

“Why?” Dean asks.

“I didn’t plan it, Dean. I came here and I’ve just run into her, I didn’t know she will be here. And you were in that condition when you didn’t want to talk to anybody. I just needed someone to talk to and she was there. I was alone. What should I do?”

Dean breaths in a heavy sigh. It’s all boiling in him. Ruby- he hates that chick. She was leading Sam by the nose for about a year back in Stanford, then she bolted off somewhere. Dean thought they got rid of her, but apparently not. If he’s just told him. Who are they that they are hiding things from each other now? Dean can’t help it. He shoves the lamp with all the strength he has and it lands on the floor breaking into million pieces. He turns around to face Sam and growls at him:

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why?” Sam huffs a laugh. “Because,” he motions to the broken lamp, “I knew how you would react.”

“She’s manipulating you, can’t you see?” Dean shouts at him.

“How can you know that? Do you know her like I do? I hardly think so.” Sam is shouting now too.

“So, tell me, what it took for her to gain your trust? Did she have to just spread her legs for you?” Dean snaps and his right eye is immediately met with Sam’s fist. He doesn’t falter and returns the blow making Sam’s mouth to bleed.

“You won’t tell me with who I can and can’t meet, Dean,” Sam says. “I am not a little boy anymore. You don’t need to protect me. I can take care of myself.” as he says this he shoves his keys into his pockets and turns to leave slamming the door behind him.

Dean sighs and looks to the broken lamp on the floor, then back to the shut door. He really needs a drink, or better, loads of drinks.

 

*******

 

_Sam gets off the car and shuts the door angrily. “You want to know why I've been lying to you, Dean? Because of crap like this!” he shouts._

_“Like what?” Dean snaps back shutting driver’s door too._

_“The way you talk to me, the way you look at me like I'm a freak!” Sam throws his hands in the air angrily._

_“I do not!” Dean retorts, faking surprise at his younger brother._

_“You know, or even worse, like I'm an idiot! Like I don't know the difference between right and wrong!” he is pacing indifferently, trying to calm himself down. “What?” he says as he turns back to face Dean._

_“Do you know the difference, Sam? I mean, you've been kind of strolling a dark road lately.” Dean replies._

_“You have no idea what I'm going through.” Sam shakes his head. “None.”_

_“Then enlighten me!” Dean shouts._

_“I've got demon blood in me, Dean!” Sam says firmly, pointing to his body to indicate his point. “This disease pumping through my veins, and I can't ever rip it out or scrub it clean! I'm a whole new level of freak!” he breaths out heavily. “And I'm just trying to take this, this curse... and make something good out of it.” he pauses a bit shaking his head again, “because I have to.”_

_Dean is staring at him speechless for a while as he can’t come up with any proper words to say, not know to react to what Sam just said._

_“Let's just go talk to the guy.” he says finally and Sam huffs a laugh. “I mean Jack... ok?” Dean corrects himself._

******

 

            “Doctor Collins?” Rachel’s voice sounds from the intercom.

“Yes, Rachel, what it is?” Castiel answers, glancing away from the papers he’s reading.

“Mr. Winchester just called. He said he will not come today again. He said he is still sick.”

Castiel furrows his brows as he is hypnotizing intercom. Something is definitely wrong. It’s the second session Dean chose to pass on. At first Castiel thought he was really sick, but it was already two weeks and something tells Castiel not everything is alright.

“Dr. Collins?” Rachel’s voice sounds again.

“Yes, Rachel,” Castiel snaps back to reality, “thank you.”

He turns off the intercom and tries to concentrate on the papers he is reading but his mind is constantly going back to Dean. What if something is really wrong, what if he needs his help. Yes, he definitely needs his help, he is just too stubborn to ask for it. Castiel makes his decision, dials a number, and he waits. He waits for it to ring three times... five times.... he already stopped counting but he can’t make himself hang up. With every ring he hopes he will hear Dean’s voice on the other side, but his heart sinks deeper and deeper every time Dean doesn’t answer. After what feels like eternity Castiel hangs up and sighs heavily. He puts his head between his hands, sinking into them as he is trying not to get lost in despair. He feels like he needs to do something, but he can’t figure out what to do.

He sits in the quiet dark room, letting himself to be consumed by the devouring thoughts that something bad happened to Dean, when suddenly a saving thought like a fading light flashes through his head and he hastily searches for Dean’s file. He opens it on the page he’s looking for right away and quickly writes something down. He doesn’t even bother to close the file or clean up other papers which lay on his table as he hurls out of his office, his tweed jacket in his hands.

 “Rachel,” he says hastily as he closes the door to his office, “please, rearrange my other clients for another day. I need to go and I’m not sure when I’ll be coming back.”

Rachel sends him a suspicious glare: “Doctor Collins, please, don’t you tell me you are going to that Winchester guy.”

“Well then, I won’t tell you,” Castiel says as he is locking the door, backing Rachel and her deadly glares.

“You seem to fancy that man a little too much, doctor Collins,” she says firmly and Castiel turns to face her. His look is hard and firm so as his voice as he speaks: “He is my client and I will do _everything_ what is in my strength to help him.”

“Sure. Just... don’t let it go too far, doctor.”

Castiel narrows his eyes a bit but doesn’t say anything as he turns to leave, leaving the deadpanned Rachel behind.

Of course he will not let it go too far. Dean is his client, that is all. He would do this for any of his clients, if they needed to. That is all.

 

******

 

            Castiel is standing in front of the door prepared to leave. He has already knocked three times. Dean isn’t probably even home. Castiel sighs and turns to leave when the door suddenly opens and there he stands. Dean Winchester, looking so sad and so desperate. He didn’t sleep too much for the last few nights as Castiel can see visible bags under his eyes, his stubble is poorly cared for and his hair are sticking to every possible angle. He also has a nasty bruise under his right eye- though it seems to be almost healed already. He wears an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt with few dirty spots and old jeans with holes from constant wearing.

“You look terrible,” Castiel says as he looks over him.

Dean narrows his eyes on him and replies: “Yeah and you look like you just had sex. What you don’t own a comb, doc?”

Castiel reddens a bit and looks to the ground shifting his gaze from one side to another: “I... honestly don’t know how to respond to this.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dean waves him off and walks back to apartment leaving Castiel to stand indecisively in the door.

 “Why have you come, doc?” Dean asks as he walks towards the couch taking a beer from coffee table and gulps a long swig. “Well, except for complimenting me,” he adds sarcastically.

“You haven’t come to the session... twice,” Castiel says as he cautiously moves into apartment and closes the door behind him. He looks around and his heart clenches at the sight of countless empty bottles of alcohol from beer through whisky to kinds of alcohol he doesn’t even know. The apartment looks like there wasn’t cleaned for... well, at least two weeks. And there is a broken lamp by the cabinet which no one bothered to get up.

“Yeah well, I was sick,” Dean says as he eyes Castiel suspiciously.

“I can see that.” Castiel nods. “From the alcohol in your blood?”

“That’s none of your friggin’ business, doc,” Dean snaps as he grabs few pills and throws it to himself swallowing them with beer.

“What are you doing?” Castiel asks concerned as he rushes himself to Dean and snaps the bottle of pills from his hands reading the label.

“Relax, doc. It’s just sleeping pills. I haven’t been able to sleep for a few days so I’ve got some,” he pauses for a while closing his eyes as he leans back to couch, “it doesn’t seem to work however.”

“You can’t swallow medicine with alcohol, Dean,” Castiel’s voice is full of worry. “How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I’m peachy,” Dean looks at him and waves him off again, “relax, doc.”

“Do you have fever?” Castiel asks but he doesn’t even wait for an answer as he places a hand on Dean’s forehead.

“No, good,” he murmurs for himself. “Look at me, I need to see your pupils.” he demands.

Dean chuckles at the word pupils and looks into Castiel’s eyes longingly. Castiel checks his pupils seeing everything is alright but when he realises the way Dean is looking at him he blushes. “You’re still drunk,” Castiel notes.

“I have figured out that when I’ll stay drunk, I won't be hungover,” Dean sends him a  proud victorious smirk but Castiel ignores it, furrowing his brows.

“You should rest,” he says.

“How many times should I tell you doc? ’m fine.” Dean says, underlying his words with a big yawn.

“Right,” Castiel murmurs. “Let’s be fine in your bed. Where’s your bedroom?” Castiel asks eyeing the apartment.

“The first one on the left but I don’t need to...,” Dean says as he points to the direction he’s indicating and yawns again but he can’t even finish his sentence as he is grabbed by his shoulder and dragged to his room. He stumbles few times on the way- alcohol and sleeping pills mixing together in his body.

“How much did you take?” he hears a far away voice of Castiel.

"I don't know," he says hearing himself like from behind the curtain of fog. "Two every few hours."

"Dean!" he suddenly hears a loud exclaim as he feels his eyes shuts down completely and he is falling down but he doesn't feel the hit. However he suddenly feels two strong arms grabbing him and pulling him up. He feels like everything is veiled by the thick fog as he is carefully placed on some soft warm mattress and a hand is placed on his forehead again. It lingers there for a while and then it slowly slides to his cheek, its thumb circling soothingly around his unshaven stubble. Dean leans into the touch, feeling himself smile softly as he is drawn further to the realms of dreams and to the darkness which envelops him.

_Dean is sitting on the bench, watching the kids play in the playground when he suddenly feels a familiar presence of one special angel. He doesn’t even need to check to, as he already knows Castiel is sitting on the second bench next to his. Dean breaths in a heavy sigh and he says: “Let me guess. You're here for the "I told you so."”_

_“No.” Castiel says simply, shaking his head slightly._

_“Well, good. 'Cause I'm really not that interested.”_

_“I am not here to judge you, Dean.” Castiel says calmly, making an eye contact with Dean._

_“Then why are you here?” Dean narrow’s his eyes as the sun is quite bright at the noon of the day._

_“Our orders...” Castiel starts._

_“Yeah, you know, I've had about enough of these orders of yours.” Dean snaps back on him._

_“Our orders...” Castiel stresses his words, “were not to stop the summoning of Samhain. They were to do whatever you told us to do.”_

_Dean leans against his elbows putted on his knees and raises his eyebrows: “Your orders were to follow my orders?”_

_“It was a test...” Castiel nods slightly, “to see how you would perform under... battlefield conditions, you might say.”_

_Dean licks his lips and says: “It was a witch... not the Tet Offensive.”_

_Castiel huffs a small laugh as he looks to the ground._

_“So, I, uh, failed your test, huh? I get it.” Dean nods after that. “But you know what?” he pauses, “If you were to waive that, that magic time-travelling wand of yours and we had to do it all over again, I'd make the same call...” He stops for a while and stares into Castiel’s eyes, contemplating the moment, “'Cause, see, I don't know what's gonna happen when these seals are broken. Hell, I don't know what's gonna happen tomorrow. But what I do know is, is that this here, these kids, the swings, the trees, all of it... is still here because of my brother and me.”_

_Castiel glances to the ground quickly for a while and nods slightly again as he looks back to Dean. “You misunderstand me, Dean.” he says. “I'm not like you think. I was praying that you would choose to save the town.”_

_“You were?” Dean raises his brows._

_“These people... they're all my father's creations.” Castiel says as he leans against his elbows too, watching the children on the swings. “They're works of art. And yet... even though you stopped Samhain, the seal was broken, and we are one step closer to Hell on Earth for all creation. And that's not an expression, Dean.” he meets Dean’s look. “It's literal. You of all people should... appreciate what that means.”_

_There is another silent moment between two of them when they look at each other, thinking about what has just been said._

_“I'll tell you something if you promise not to tell another soul.” Castiel says at last._

_“Okay.” Dean reacts._

_“I'm not, uh... a hammer, as you say.” Castiel says slowly. “I have questions. I... I have doubts. I don't know what is right and what is wrong anymore... And whether you passed or failed here. But in the coming months, you will have more decisions to make. I don't envy the weight that's on your shoulders, Dean. I truly don't.”_

_They stare at each other for a little longer, when Dean finally breaks the eye contact and for a moment he glances back to the playground. When he looks back, Castiel, however, is no longer on the bench._

Dean slowly wakes up and finds out he is in his bed. As he looks over the table he notices a glass with water and a little note. He briefly wonders how it got there and reaches over to take it. The note is simple. It says only: "Drink this. C." Dean's heart flutters at the sight of the note, though it is so simple. He didn't just imagine it, Castiel really was here.

But, why? Because he cared? Sure he did. Dean was his client after all. Dean's heart however sinks again as he thinks about the fact he is still _just_ Castiel's client, nothing more. Sure he wants him to get better and everything, but it is not because, because he would like him. It's just because he has to. It's like he said few weeks ago. It's his job and he has to take whatever burden it brings, because he chose to. So yeah, basically Dean is just a burden for him, nothing more. He should unburden him and stop seeing him at all. He doesn't need to take his crap too.

Dean sighs heavily and rolls out of the bed. Yeah, he should definitely do that. But first he will take a cold shower to wake himself up. And then, he swallows hard, then he will call Castiel and tell him he will not come anymore.

As Dean steps outside the shower and he cleans himself, he hears some indifferent sounds coming out from kitchen. Is it maybe that Sam would come back? He throws some clean t-shirt and trousers on himself and looks into the mirror. He needs to shave really badly and what he needs more is a proper sleep as his head aches terribly, but he doesn't care right now. He shoves off the bathroom and slowly makes it to the living room. He hears the sound of the mixer in the kitchen and he frowns. What the hell is Sam doing there?

"Sam, you here?" Dean shouts but he gets no answer.  He makes it to the kitchen and he stops in his tracks numbed as he is faced with someone he wasn't expecting.

"What are you doing here, doc?" Dean asks surprised.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm on my way now. I wanted just finish this," he says as he turns off the mixer. "It's a banana cocktail... It's a... it’s a hangover cure."

Dean narrows his eyes a bit. "You don't seem like a type of man to need to know this." 

"I... I used to do it for my brother all the time. He even named it after himself - Gabriel's horn, you know, because of the archangel Gabriel," Castiel stops suddenly as he realises he's blabbering. He shifts his gaze to the ground and slouches his shoulders as he speaks, "as I said, I was just leaving," he says and moves pass Dean with intention to leave when he feels a firm hand grabbing him by shoulder and he hears Dean's voice: "No," he exclaims, "stay!" Castiel can feel the grip on his shoulder loosen suddenly and he hears Dean clears his throat. "I mean... if you want to."

Castiel glances back at him seeing the same broken man he saw when he came. He is clean now and he seems a bit rested, but still Castiel sees how urgent his look is, how desperate Dean is for company, for someone to listen to him, for someone with who he can share his pain. He sends him a weak smile and nods.

"You should drink it," Castiel motions to the pale yellow drink in the mixer. "It will help you to get better."

Dean nods and walks towards the kitchen unit, grabbing one glass from it and pouring the drink in it. Castiel walks towards the table and sits behind it, a bit unsurely.

"Whoa," Dean exclaims as he sips from the glass, coming to sit next to Castiel. "That’s quite sweet."

"I'm sorry about that," Castiel apologises. "I've been making it according to the recipe I used to do for my brother. He has quite a sweet tooth."

"I see," Dean nods meaningfully. 

"You should also drink much water," Castiel says as he moves the bottle with water across the table, "so you would not get dehydrated."

"Did you... go shopping?" Dean asks unsure, frowning a bit. Castiel lowers his eyes and turns a bit red.

"I apologise," he says quietly. "I allowed myself to borrow your keys and went for needed groceries when I have finished cleaning up."

"When you finished what?" Dean exclaims wide-eyed. He leans back in the chair so he could see the living room and there it is. He didn't notice it sooner, because his head was aching like hell, but the living room was really quite cleaned up - no bottles anywhere, not even the broken lamp on the floor. It was cleaner than ever before actually.

"I have cleaned here a bit," Castiel says lowering his gaze and blushing a bit.

"Why?" Dean asks surprised.

"Because you were in no condition to do so." Castiel replies as if it was an obvious answer.

"Yeah I mean," Dean sighs, "I mean why have you done all of this? You didn't have to."

"I know," Castiel says, eyes lowering again. "I've just," he pauses for a while and looks fully on Dean, "I wanted you to get better. I... I wanted to be sure you'll be alright when you'll wake up."

Dean is quite speechless for quite amount of time, not able to come up with anything at all. Finally he sighs out almost unnoticeable: "Thank you."

Castiel only nods, a small but firm smile appearing on his face.

"You really didn't need to do it." Dean says looking down at the table rather than to Castiel's eyes. The feeling of guilt is too much for him now. "I was a jerk, again. And still... you have chosen to help me... again. Why are you doing this?"

"Because," Castiel sighs out but falters after that. He isn't quite sure himself. He tried to convince himself it is what he would do for any of his client. But is it really true? Would he go so far for anyone? Or was it just because it was Dean. Because of this strange connection he felt with him.

"Doc?" Dean's voice snaps him out of his thoughts and he flicks his eyes to the other man. He is frowning a bit, his eyes expecting something clearly.

"I don't have many friends," Castiel starts unsurely, trying to avoid Dean's gaze as well as he can. "Actually, besides some of my siblings and Balthazar, I don't have any friends."

Dean is silent. He isn't quite sure where this is heading, but he doesn't want to interrupt the other man now, when he decided to confide to him.

"And I'm not quite sure how to put it," Castiel says still fixing his gaze to the table, "but I feel like... I feel like you are my friend too. And I wouldn't like to lose you."

Dean stays quiet for a while, quite taken aback, but after a short moment a frank smile appears on his face: "Well, in that case, you should stop calling me Mr. Winchester, doc."

Castiel sends him a long thoughtful look and replies after a while: "It's Castiel."

“And... I’m sorry for skipping on our meetings,” Dean says lowering his gaze. “I’ve just. I’ve had this huge fight with Sam and... I wasn’t in the condition to... well you saw the condition I was in,” he trails off.

“We all have our ups and downs, Dean. What is important is, if we try to rectify our actions.”

“I should call him, shouldn’t I?” Dean raises his gaze and meets with Castiel’s.

“If it is what you want,” Castiel responds.

Dean thinks about it and then nods, fishing his cell phone out of his pocket. He dials Sam’s number and waits for it to ring.

 _“Yes, Dean?”_ Sam’s voice sounds almost immediately.

“Hey Sam. Listen. I’d like to talk to you. Do you think we would meet, probably?” Dean says with hopeful voice, his glance flickering to Castiel from time to time.

_“Yeah ok. I am near your apartment. I can be there in ten.”_

“That would be great,” Dean lets out a genuine sigh of relief.

_“Ok, goodbye then.”_

“Bye.” Dean says and hangs up, looking at Castiel. “He’s coming here.”

“Good,” Castiel nods. “I will be on my way then.” he stands up prepared to leave when Dean stands too and exclaims: “Wait!”

He falters again as he isn’t quite sure what he wants to say to other man, he just wants to let him know he cares about him too.

“I,” Dean starts, clearing his throat, “I don’t know how to thank you, Castiel.”

“You already did,” Castiel furrows his brows a bit and tilts his head to the side.

“I know I mean,” Dean looks down to the ground, “I mean for everything. I don’t feel like saying ‘thank you’ is enough. I mean, without you I wouldn’t be here, I...” Dean suddenly feels a warm hand on his shoulder and he raises his gaze only to see two big blue eyes are looking at him gently, the corners of Castiel’s mouth curved into almost unnoticeable smile.

“It’s not my credit,” Castiel says and it makes Dean knits his brows together.

“How...?” he starts but Castiel interrupts him: “If you didn’t want to change, you will not be here. I couldn’t have helped you if you weren’t willing to help yourself, Dean. You made this happen. I was only pushing you a bit into the right direction.”

Dean is again speechless. He doesn’t know what to say or how to react. He is just looking inaudibly into that blueness of other man’s eyes. He is so overwhelmed he doesn’t know what to do first. He has never had a friend like this. Sure he always had Sammy, but Sam is a family, family always stick together. Then there is Bobby, who is also practically family. But Dean never had anybody who would show a genuine interest in him and his happiness and who would put him on the first place no matter what.

“You really are great friend, Castiel,” Dean says softly after a long pause.

Castiel seems to be thinking about something, as if he was deciding if he wants to say something to that, or not, but in the end he just says: “I really should be going.”

Dean nods and walks him towards the door. When he opens them they see Sam standing there with a slight shock on his face.

“Uhm, hey,” Sam says as he looks over them.

“Hello, Sam. It’s nice to finally meet you in person,” Castiel extends his hands towards Sam.

Sam accepts it and his eyes widens. “Oh, you must be Doctor Collins, right? It’s a pleasure to meet you, really.” Sam shakes his hand.

“I’m glad you seem to be alright,” Castiel says earning a bit of confused look from Sam and a short glance towards his brother.

“Well, I will let you two talk. I believe you have much to talk about. See you on Tuesday then, Dean?” Castiel turns towards Dean.

“You bet, Cas,” Dean sends him a little smirk as he watches him walk away. When he is no longer in their vision range Sam makes his way into apartment and closes the door. Then he turns towards his brother, his brows unnaturally high.

“What?” Dean frowns.

“So he’s Cas, already?” Sam smirks a bit.

“What? Is it wrong I call him by his first name? He’s my friend.” Dean retorts.

“Oh is he?” Sam’s smirk widens. “I thought he is your shrink.”

“Those two options don’t exclude themselves, do they?” Dean snaps back and makes his way towards the kitchen again, grabbing the bottle of water and one beer for Sam out of the fridge.

“But I didn’t call you to talk about Castiel.” Dean says as he hands Sam his beer. “I wanted to apologise. For how I acted before. I may have overreacted a bit.”

“Yeah I,” Sam sighs taking the beer and sipping from it, “I didn’t need to bolt off exactly too. It’s just, I was really pissed off.”

“Yeah well, would you like to tell me how it all happened?” Dean asks as he sits on the couch, nursing his bottle and waiting for Sam to join him.

“Sure. If you really want to know,” Sam says and sits next to him.

 

******

_Dean shakes his head and rolls his eyes what is like the two hundredth time during this particular drive. The dark and rain behind the window of Impala doesn’t add to the already gloomy atmosphere in the car. Sam however decides not to walk around the fire anymore and approaches Dean directly: “You got something to say, say it.”_

_“Oh, I'm saying it... this sucks.” Dean glances on Sam shortly, before he returns his gaze back to the road._

_“You're not pissed we're going after the girl. You're pissed Ruby threw us the tip.” Sam says, shaking his head, but his voice is perfectly calm unlike Dean’s._

_“Right. 'Cause as far as you're concerned, the hell-bitch is practically family. Yeah, boy, something major must've happened while I was downstairs, 'cause I come back, and... and you're BFF with a demon?” Dean’s glancing between the road and his brother._

_“I told you, Dean, she helped me go after Lilith.” Sam replies still calmly._

_“Well, thanks for the thumbnail... real vivid.” Dean says sarcastically as he looks fully at his brother leaving the cautions during driving behind. “You want to fill in a little detail?”_

_“Sure, Dean, let's trade stories.” Sam now snaps back with same sarcastic tone. “You first. How was Hell? Don't spare the details.”_

_That makes Dean shuts immediately as he turns his gaze back to the road and stays quiet, letting Sam to think about the time without his brother few months ago._

******

Dean is rummaging through the rack of baked goods when his attention is caught by the familiar name sounding behind the next rack.

"Take also the popcorn, Castiel," a young woman's voice sounds and it is immediately followed by the familiar sound of the man Dean knows for a while.

"Why? What are you planning again, Anna?" Castiel’s voice is calm, as usual.

"We will have a movie night tonight," Anna says cheerfully. "I brought you Dangerous method DVD. You know, the movie about Jung's and Freud's relationship." the sound of Anna's voice is approaching closer.

Dean quickly grabs one of the pies so he would look like he's reading the label and not eavesdropping.

"You didn't forget?" Castiel's voice sounds from the other side of the aisle Dean is standing in and he hears two pairs of footsteps approaching him.

"Oh, you know I would never forget about you, sweetheart," Anna says as she leans into Castiel's arm.

Dean glances over them quickly and a sudden feeling of despair clenches his heart. Anna is very attractive woman and she seems to be very intimate with Castiel. And Dean is suddenly feeling unexplainably very sad. He can't look away from Anna's hand wrapped around Castiel's arm and he feels his body is starting to fill with anger. But what is he angry about exactly?

"Hello, Dean." Castiel suddenly says and Dean's eyes snaps to his.

"Oh, hi, Castiel," Dean exclaims, trying to act like he didn't hear them before.

"Oh, this is Dean? The Dean?" Anna asks eagerly.

"Yes, Anna," Castiel glances over her, blushing a bit and trying to avoid Dean's now curious gaze.

"Oh, it's a pleasure to meet you," Anna extends her hand to Dean and waits until he takes it.

"I'm Anna. Castiel talks much about you." she says as she shakes his hand. "Oh don't worry, it's just good stuff," she adds smiling as she sees Dean's surprised look.

"Ehm, nice to meet you, Anna." Dean says as he glances quickly over Castiel who is still blushing slightly.

„So, you are,” Dean clears his throat unsurely, „Castiel’s girlfriend?”

“Oh no,” Castiel snaps immediately as Anna is chuckling a bit. “I mean, not at all.” Castiel shifts his gaze to the pie Dean is holding in his hands as Dean’s eyes bore into him. He awkwardly clears his throat and is prepared to explain it, when Anna overtakes him.

“That would be quite weird,” she smiles. “I am his sister.”

“Oh,” Dean eyes her. “I didn’t know Castiel has even sister.”

“Well, we are quite big family actually,” Anna replies fondly, but Castiel seems to tense up a bit as he grips her hand hard.

“Anna is here on her week off from school.” Castiel says to change the topic. “She decided to come visit me as we didn’t see each other, for... a long time,” Castiel eyes turns to Anna and Dean can see the love and devotion in them. He really loves his sister.

“So what are you studying, Anna?” Dean asks absentmindedly.

“Psychology actually,” Anna says with big grin. “I am in my last term.”

“Is everybody in your family psychologist?” Dean asks laughing slightly.

“Just Castiel here and Gabriel.” Anna replies.

“Just? Well I’d say three psychologists are quite enough for one family. How many are there of you?” Dean frowns a bit.

“Well, there are six of us truthfully,” Anna replies and Dean whistles long. “Wow, that’s quite a number.” he says.

“Anna, I believe Mr. Winchester doesn’t have time for this,” Castiel says suddenly turning to her and Dean is taken aback by the sudden coldness in his voice. Anna’s eyes turn the shade of guilty as she looks at his brother and nods inaudibly.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” Dean says and absentmindedly puts the pie he’s holding in his hands into the shopping trolley. He doesn’t even know what pie it is but right now he doesn’t really care.

“I’ll be on my way then. Well, see you later, doc,” he says and sends one last small smile towards Anna. She reciprocates it but her smile is a very sad. Castiel’s face is deadpanned as he is still gripping Anna’s hand tightly.

Dean turns away and goes to cash register. He is laying out his shopping and smiling back to the young cashier but his mind is somewhere else right now. He couldn’t not notice how Castiel tensed up when it became to his family. He only wished Castiel would share this burden with him. Dean knows those session are about him, not about Castiel, but he feels like Castiel needs his help as much as Dean needs his and he wants to help him. But he can’t, until Castiel will not want to open up for him. And for that he needs to wait yet a while.


	6. So Scandalous

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: sexual content 
> 
> Beta by fabulous ghostlyweasley, who is again ollliverwood (or vvintersoldier) on tumblr :) (at least that's how it shows on my dash)... She betad (beta-d? don't know what's the past tense of this word) this chapter up until the smutty part at the end of it (so if there are any mistakes, it's on me).

_„Although the events we appear to perceive in dreamsare illusory, our feelings in response to dream contentare real. Indeed, most of the events we experience indreams  are  real;  when  we  experience  feelings,  say,anxiety or ecstasy, in dreams, we really do feel anxiousor ecstatic at the time.“_

Stephen LaBerge

 

          Dean walks into the Castiel’s waiting room prepared for Rachel’s unwanted glares, but what he doesn’t expect is a familiar redhead sitting behind Rachel’s desk. Dean turns a bit red as he remembers the last dream he had, where this particular redhead appeared not in the most appropriate way. He clears his throat as he stops in front of desk and says, trying to sound as smooth as possible: “Ehm, hey Anna.”

Anna looks up from the papers she’s reading and her face lights up immediately. “Hello, Dean,” she smiles at him sweetly, but right after that she composes herself and clears her throat too, “I mean, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean chuckles a bit and says: “Dean works.”

Her smile creeps back on her nice face in less than two seconds and her eyes starts to beam again.

“So, what are you doing here? Did Rachel get fired?” Dean asks his voice more hopeful than he would like to admit.

“Oh no,” Anna replies immediately and Dean’s hopes are lost in vain.

“She is just sick so I am substituting her.” Anna continues to explain. “But, I don't want to delay you. Castiel, I mean, Doctor Collins, is waiting for you already.”

Dean sends her a frank smile as he says: “Thanks, it was nice seeing you again, Anna.”

“Me too.” she smiles back and Dean turns to walk into Castiel’s office.

As he walks in however, he stops in his tracks at once, as another unexpected sight waits for him in Castiel’s office. Castiel is kneeling down next to one of two dark blue armchairs, visibly contemplated in something, his rear pointing exactly at Dean. And how couldn't Dean notice how good Castiel’s ass looks in those particular pants. As soon as this thought runs through Dean’s mind however, he slaps himself mentally for thinking it and clears his throat again, trying to get Castiel’s attention. Castiel turns suddenly and stands up quickly, a thin book in his hand. 

“Oh, hello, Dean,” he says eagerly, checking the clock on the opposite wall. “It is our time already? Oh I am so sorry. I must have lost track of time.”

“Yeah well, it happens,” Dean smirks sheepishly, trying to ignore warm feeling in his chest the words “our time” gives him. “What have you been doing anyway?”

“Oh I’ve... the leg of that chair chipped off and now it’s swinging terribly. I tried to put some book under it, but I can’t find the right size unfortunately,” he sighs and looks down to book he’s holding in his hand. He walks towards the bookcase to return the book to its place as he speaks further: “I have to send that chair to get repaired eventually. Would you mind to sit on the divan so far, Dean?” he asks as he looks at Dean. “The other one is lost call too,” Castiel points to second chair and it is in this moment that Dean notice small pool of dark liquid on the carpet under it. “One of my clients today was a bit upset and he spilled the coffee on it. I haven’t had time to clean it properly yet.”

“That’s alright,” Dean smiles and walks over the divan sitting at the far end of it carefully. Castiel walks towards his table and moves his chair next to it so he would be able to face Dean properly. There is not the usual barrier of Castiel’s table between two of them now and Dean suddenly feels very intimidated as he knows what is going to happen and he isn’t sure he wants to talk about it.

“Would you like a coffee, or tea, perhaps?” Castiel asks before he sits on his chair.

“No, no, I’m fine.” Dean shakes his head and sighs heavily, handing Castiel one of two papers, with description of his latest dreams.

Castiel sits down and accepts the paper without a word. Before he looks on it however, he asks, “How’s Sam?”

Dean breathes out with audible relief. He is glad Castiel is not paying his attention to the papers and he would be glad if they would not have time to talk about it at all, but he thinks that’s hardly possible.

“He’s fine. He moved back. We’ve talked about it and it seems he’s not seeing that bitch Ruby so often. I mean, I guess she will not let him go just like that, but he seems fine for now. His results in school are great and he seems to be better.”

“That I like to hear,” Castiel smiles at him, though just very little.

“And what about Anna?” Dean bursts out, trying to avoid the inevitable faith of starting to talk about his dreams. “She seems pretty happy with her position of substituting Rachel.”

“Anna, yes,” Castiel nods. “She’s very skilful, though she has yet much to learn. But I believe one day she will be a successful psychologist too.” his smile gets bigger and softer as he talks about her.

“Your parents must be proud of you,” Dean says and he sees Castiel’s smile fades away quickly, his eyes saddening as he averts his gaze from Dean’s, staying quiet for a while.

“What have you dreamed about lately, Dean?” Castiel asks suddenly, changing the topic.

Dean is reluctant to change the topic, because he both wants to avoid talking about his dreams today and also because he is really genuinely interested in Castiel’s situation and he wants to help him, if he can. But either way he decides not to tease his luck and tries to talk about his dreams without spilling too much detail about what he doesn’t want to.

“Well,” he starts reluctantly, “there seems to be the girl who can hear the angels talking in my latest dreams.”

“Interesting,” Castiel says as he quickly looks through the papers.

“Yes, it’s Anna,” Dean says as he sees Castiel to furrow his brows a bit at reading some particular part of the papers.

“And she’s...?” he starts.

“Yes,” Dean finishes quickly. “She’s an angel too.”

“I see,” Castiel nods slightly. “So, why do you think she appeared in your dreams?”

“I have no freaking clue. Probably ‘cause I've met her in that grocery store with you?”

“You know, not everyone from your day life appear in your dreams, because not everybody is equally important for you. Your subconscious picks just people you have some unresolved problems with and put them there so you can maybe find some way to overcome your problems with that particular person.”

“How can I have problems with your sister? I have met her once for like five minutes.” Dean furrows his brows and shakes his head.

“It doesn't need to be her you have some unresolved problems with. It may be someone who both of you know or have something in common with.”

“The only person both of us know is you,” Dean bursts out hastily, when suddenly his eyes widen. “Oh,” he furrows his brows again. “Does this mean I have some problems with you?”

“Well that is not excluded,” Castiel says lowering his gaze.

“I don't, I really don't,” Dean bursts out suddenly leaning more forward so he would get closer to Castiel. “I mean... I don’t really think I have something against you. You are my friend, after all.” he smiles weakly and is reciprocated by the same action from Castiel.

Castiel seems to be thinking about something for a while, as he suddenly clears his throat and states: “Well, it doesn’t need to be a negative emotion. Just something you are maybe reluctant to share. Because,” he pauses a bit and lowers his gaze again. And Dean would swear he is blushing a bit now. “Because maybe you are afraid of my reaction, of what I would think of you. Or you think it’s maybe inappropriate...” 

Dean is watching Castiel carefully when he suddenly contemplates all of his words.

“Uhm, what?” Dean stays shocked a bit, his mouth slightly open. Would it be Castiel was indicating what he thinks he was indicating? Because Dean knows very well the only thing unresolved between them is that damn sexual tension. But did Castiel just confirm it to him?

“Oh, I... Uhm, no, nothing. It doesn’t ring a bell. Nothing comes to mind,” Dean quickly searches for suitable words. Like hell he is going to tell Castiel he can’t stop thinking of him and his big ocean blue eyes and smooth skin and perfect slight stubble and his thick messy hair and those long slender fingers and a firm body which is probably hiding beneath that damn shirt he’s wearing right now. Dean clears his throat as he feels his pants tightening up and he quickly returns his gaze back to Castiel’s eyes as he finds himself looking somewhere on his chest for what feels like a while and he realises Castiel is watching him really carefully, almost scrutinizing.

“Ehm, nope. I came up with nothing, doc.” he smirks slightly, trying to hide his insecurity about his words. If Castiel really notices, he must be transparent as hell. He really needs to restrain himself from this.

“So,” Dean hears Castiel to clear his throat, “what about Anna?”

“What about her?” Dean snaps back into reality.

“I mean, what about dream Anna. What was your relationship to her? How did you feel about her?” he glances back to the papers for a while and then adds: “I see me and Uriel were sent to kill her? How did you feel about it?”

Dean thinks about it for a while and then says: “Well I was pissed. I mean, you really didn't give us any reason. Hell we didn’t even know she was an angel for a while. _She_ didn't even know. Well and then... well, we figured it out somehow.”

“What was that?” Castiel asks immediately.

“What was what?” Dean frowns.

“That pause,” Castiel replies.

“Nothing,” Dean lies and averts his gaze.

“Dean,” Castiel says firmly.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Why?”

“Because.... It’s awkward.”

“Dean. Do you remember what I have told you about judging free zone the last time you were here?”

Dean only nods.

“Well it hasn’t changed. I still will not make any conclusions from what you’ll say. It’s only up to you to figure out what is going on with you. I can only push you to right direction. But I will never, ever judge you for anything you’ll say here.”

“I have slept with Anna,” Dean bursts out.

There is a moment of silence when Castiel opens and closes his mouth few times unable to form words. “Anna as in...” he starts.

“Yes, Anna as in your sister, Anna,” Dean confirms.

“Oh,” Castiel says quietly.

“But not like your real sister,” Dean bursts out quickly, realising how it sounded. “I mean, the angel Anna. I slept with her in my dream. Not like in reality.” he doesn't know why exactly but he feels like he really needs to explain Castiel how it was.

“I see,” Castiel says slowly and falls silent for a while. When he speaks, his voice is unsure and a bit hoarse: “How... How did it make you feel?”

Dean frowns for a while. What kind of stupid question is this? “Well, it was sex. It was ... good. More than good. I mean, you know how the sex is,” he glances quickly to Castiel who lowers his gaze and blushes again.

“You... do know, right?” Dean frowns and then his eyes widen. “Oh,” he says. “I'm, I'm sorry.” he says, almost inaudibly.

“I mean. I’m not sorry for you being you know... virgin.”

Oh God, he really wasn’t expecting this. After all, with that perfect lean body and astonishing eyes, Dean would think Castiel had loads of partners. And here he is telling him he has never been with anyone? That is.... quite romantic actually. Saving it for someone special, someone he would really love and he would like to devote himself to that person. Suddenly Dean feels a flash of anger and envy wash over him as he pictures some random girl taking this... gift from Cas.

“Dean?” he hears Castiel voice, which suddenly takes him back to reality.

“Yeah?”

“We were talking about you and Anna.”

“Yes well. I don’t know what to say about it anymore. I can’t say I didn’t enjoy it. I mean, who would decline a basically free sex? Ok. This didn’t sound very good. No offence to your sister, in reality or in dream state, but she hit on me quite hard. You know, came at me with that ‘last night on Earth speech’ and well I am certainly not the person who would decline an offer like this. Especially with such a beautiful girl as Anna is.”

“I see,” Castiel only says, but when Dean looks at him he would swear he sees the flash of something close to disappointment in his eyes.

“But don’t worry. I have no intensions in having sex with your little sister in real life.”

Castiel seems like he is restraining himself from asking something else, but eventually he lowers and says he only says “Anna is, actually, a year older than me.”

“How is it possible? I mean, she’s still studying.” Dean frowns; quite glad they changed the topic.

“Yes Me... I was a bright kid. And I have graduated high school sooner than my coevals. Which means I have also finished university much sooner. Plus, Anna was travelling for two years after high school so she started her university later. But she is already doing her last term of clinical psychology and she will have her attestation after that.”

“So, you are the youngest of all of you?” Dean asks truly absorbed in Castiel’s words.

“I am, yes. But,” Castiel inhales deeply, “we’re not here to talk about me. We’re here because of you, Dean.”

“Right,” Dean sighs. “It’s just. I... you know, I’d like to know more about you.”

“Why?” Castiel says immediately, frowning.

Dean bits his lip a bit as he falters for a while and then says slowly: “Because... you are my friend.”

“Right,” Castiel nods. “Well, maybe some another time. But right now and right here we should talk about you.”

Was it some kind of implicit suggestion for going out? Cause it definitely sounded like one. And Dean would not deny he would like to meet Castiel even out of his office from time to time.

“I don’t know what else to tell you, Castiel,” Dean shakes his head.

“You know, it was awesome. All that touching and pulling and pressing, my hands all over her warm body. Moving in the unison in the back of Impala till the whole emotions builds up and...” he looks over Castiel who seems to be pretty tensed up and clears his throat uncomfortably. “Well and then was the end, if you know what I mean.”

“Right," Castiel says absentmindedly. “Just so you know, we’re still talking about my sister, technically.”

“Yeah, sorry. I guess I let myself carry away a bit.”

Castiel only nods, not saying a word letting Dean to tell yet something if he wishes to.

“So, I really don’t know what else I should tell you. It was,” he falters for a while, “good.”

“Why do I always sense a ‘but’ in your words?” Castiel asks firmly.

“I.... don’t know,” Dean tries to lie again but Castiel’s firm look makes him sigh and surrender.

“Ok, ok. Well, I’m not sure exactly. But... it felt a bit like, like I didn’t want to be with her. You know, as I said, I would be an idiot to decline a free sex... with all due respect to your sister... but, I just felt like if I had a choice, if I was about to choose between her and someone else, I wouldn’t pick her. I... she just wasn’t what I wanted. She was just around so I seized the chance.”

“And what about what you want?” Castiel asks quietly. “Why don’t you... take it?” he asks raising his brows a little bit.

Dean swallows hard as he feels his pants tightening again. Is this guy even realising what is he implying?

“I... I can’t,” Dean tries to compose himself.

“Why do you think so?” Castiel asks narrowing his eyes.

“Because... because there are some rules I can’t break to get what I want. Even though I want it badly.” Dean would get anything for an ability to read minds now.

“And...” Castiel falters a bit and shifts in his seat. “What is it... you want?” he asks almost nervously and Dean gasps for air for a while.

“I...” he pauses as he isn’t sure what to say. Should he say the truth? That wouldn’t change anything. It would only make their sessions more uncomfortable. And even though, what does he want exactly? Does he want to kiss Castiel? Does he want to... to take him here and now. Does he want to make him moan under his touch and make him shout Dean’s and God’s name while he would guide him through his first orgasm? Does he want to deflower the man? Does he really want all of this? And if so, why? What is the reason this particular guy makes Dean feel this way?

“I...” he starts again. “I want you... I want you to bring me that coffee of yours,” Dean bursts out.

“I’m sorry?” Castiel seems a bit shaken.

“I... I changed my mind. I would like to have that coffee.”

Castiel is sitting there for a while, quite taken aback, when he finally seems like he’s just comprehended what Dean said and he stands up quickly, saying: “Of course. I'll be back in a minute... Dean.” 

With that he marches off the room hastily, leaving equally shocked Dean sitting on the end of the divan. Dean can’t believe he said that. Well, he didn’t quite say it technically, but still, he almost said what he was thinking of about few weeks now. About what he tried to suppress deep inside him for a while.

When Castiel comes back with the cup of coffee Dean is still quite immersed in his thoughts.

“Here you are,” Castiel says quietly and Dean thoughtlessly takes the cup from him.

“Thanks,” he says automatically and moves the cup to his mouth to sip from it. He almost immediately chokes on it as he almost spits it back to the cup.

“I'm sorry,” Castiel says with his eyes lowered as he takes the cup away from him. “I should have warned you probably. The only think Anna can’t do perfectly is coffee.” he walks towards the table putting the cup with coffee down on it.

“No wonder the other guys rather spill it on the chair,” Dean says still slightly choking.

Castiel falters a bit, weighing his decision, Dean’s joke going unnoticed, when he finally clears his throat and says: “I recommend we would continue in our session.”

“Right,” Dean says nervously, shifting his gaze around the room, when he suddenly hears quiet and soft “oh” and he fixes his eyes on Castiel. He holds the paper with Dean’s newest dream, a wet brown circle on it.

“I must have put the cup on it,” Castiel states matter-of-factly.

“Uhm,” he says as he clearly tries to figure out what is written on the paper, his brows furrowed.

“May I ask what was written here?” he asks as he walks towards Dean and points on the spot on the paper. Dean takes it and studies the content carefully. As he is trying to figure out what the spot hidden, however, Castiel seems to be pinned to his spot above Dean, not moving away.

“Dude, may you at least sit down?” Dean looks up at him. “You're making me nervous.”

Castiel doesn’t say anything, he just seems to be thinking about something for a while and then he sits down next to Dean, on the divan. Dean is taken aback for a while, as he wasn’t expecting the other man taking this option and there is not that much space between them. either. Castiel’s thigh is slightly touching Dean’s and Dean swallows hard again as he is trying to pay attention on his paper, but the heat of Castiel’s body makes it impossible for him. After a while he gives up, throwing his hands down in defeat and looks on Castiel, who is watching him the whole time carefully. Dean swallows hard and says:

“I'm not quite sure, right now. Probably something about that scene in the car.”

“Scene in the car?” Castiel furrows his brows.

“Well you know.... the one with your sister.”

Castiel only lowers his eyes again not saying anything for a while. Then he looks back up and asks firmly: “How did it make you feel... Not be able to have what you want?”

“I... I don’t know,” Dean says slowly. “I mean. The dream as whole was quite good, if we consider the little business I had to take care of in the morning.”

Castiel furrows his brows even more, tilting his head to the side.

“Well, better said, quite big business... down there,” Dean corrects himself as he gives Castiel a meaningful look.

“Oh,” Castiel only says as his mouth stays slightly open and his eyes flickers towards Dean’s crotch for a while, lingering there.

 

            And in this moment Dean loses it. The way Castiel is looking at him, the proximity of his body and those pink perfectly rounded lips. He can’t help himself, as he suddenly leans in and smashes their lips together colliding Castiel’s back towards the backrest of the divan on their way. Castiel gasps in surprise and opens his mouth a bit more and Dean is not losing a second as he’s seizing his chance and slides his tongue into Castiel’s mouth. Castiel moans loudly as Dean’s hands finds his mane and pulls it slightly so his head falls back making more space for Dean’s tongue to explore his mouth. Dean’s other hand slides down to Castiel’s collar as he hastily unbuttons his first two buttons, revealing a delicate soft skin underneath. Dean pulls back for air for a while, parting their lips and he looks down at Castiel who’s pupils are widened with lust and his lips all swollen and wet.

“We can’t do this,” he breathes out, shakily.

Dean looks over his messy hair and leans closer to him, his breath hot against Castiel’s lips.

“Screw the rules, doc,” he whispers.

“I’m taking what I want,” he says and moves down to kiss Castiel’s jaw roughly.

“Oh, Dean,” he hears Castiel moan under him as he leaves a wet trail of saliva all over Castiel’s neck.

“Dean, Dean, Dean .... DEAN?!” Dean is suddenly snapped back to reality.

“Are you alright, Dean?”  Castiel asks frowning a bit, as he tries to figure out what has just happened.

Dean blinks few times realising he is still staring on Castiel’s lips, his breath short and ... his pants very tight.

“I’m,” he glances back to Castiel’s eyes, “yeah I’m... I’m peachy,” he smirks slightly.

“I’ve just.... was thinking hard about something,” he swallows a bit, flickering with his eyes back to Castiel’s lips. He is so close. All Dean needs to do is to lean in and make his fantasy real. But, how would Castiel react? He knows he can’t do this. Castiel is his psychologist... his friend. He can’t jeopardize their relationship just because he has some very inappropriate thoughts about the other man.

“What was it?” Castiel asks.

“What was what?” Dean snaps back to Castiel’s eyes and what he sees makes him shiver.

Castiel is looking at him, his eyes a bit dark, as if he was sharing Dean’s thought. As if he wanted to pin Dean down to the divan and reciprocate the action Dean was doing to him just seconds ago in his mind.

“What... have... you... been... thinking... about?” he asks slowly, his voice veiled, almost sensual.

“I,” Dean feels his pants tighten even more, though he thinks it isn’t possible anymore.

“I got to go,” he snaps out and hastily stands up leaving the room in few long steps.

As he hurriedly passes Anna he hears her saying a bit confused: “Ehm, goodbye, Dean, I guess.”

He doesn’t pay her attention however. All he thinks about is those two big blue eyes and lusty lips and thick dark mane... and it doesn’t help to reduce the pressure in his pants.

Castiel slowly walks out of the office watching Dean’s fading figure as he hears Anna asking: “Is he, alright?“

Castiel sighs and looks at his sister: “I think I need to talk to Gabriel, Anna.”

Anna frowns a bit and looks to the direction Dean left. “He seemed very distracted.”

“He... we were talking about some not very comfortable stuff I might say,” Castiel says following her gaze.

“But, he will be alright, won’t he?” she asks, returning to look at her brother.

“I... have faith in him,” he looks back to her sister, smiling a bit.

 

******

 

            Dean finds himself in his bathroom, clenching basin with one hand, the other on his throbbing cock, as he shoots white all over his hand, Castiel’s name on his lips. He slides down backing the bathtub, still breathing heavily. He should clean himself properly, maybe take a shower, but right now, he isn’t able to do anything. He still can see Castiel under him, moaning and kissing him, breathing out his name. If only it wasn’t just an imagination.

But what if it was real? How would he react? No, Castiel can’t know what he has just done. He can’t ever know about this. He would, hell, Dean doesn’t even know what he would do, how would he react. But he knows for sure, he is never going to tell him what he has done.

He had no right to do so. It was; it was just too strong. The image, the sensation of Castiel near to him, touching him, his hot breath on Dean’s lips, as he was speaking to him. It was too much. And now Dean was half lying next to bathtub after one hell of an orgasm, his hand aching a bit from the pressure he used, still picturing that hand wasn’t his but Castiel’s. Or even better, imagine it was Castiel’s.... Dean’s thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the sound of his mobile phone beeping.

He fishes it out of his pocket, where he left it. He doesn’t even think to check the ID of the caller before he picks up. And suddenly very different feeling overcomes him. As soon as he hears all too familiar husky “Hello Dean” a cold sweat covers his neck and brow.

 “Oh, God!” Dean breaths out, trying to calm himself and his renewing erection.

“No, it’s Castiel.” the voice in the phone says and Dean laughs frankly on the reply, but then he remembers the situation he is in, what he was doing just seconds ago while he was imaging the man on the other side of the line and he composes himself.

“Uhm, hey, Castiel. Look, it’s not the best time.”

“Dean!” Castiel’s voice sounds urgent and Dean suppresses a moan which draws from his throat. Just the sound of Castiel’s voice saying his name all over again would make him come.

“Are you alright?” Castiel asks, his voice audibly concerned.

“I, yeah. I just...” Dean tries to come up with something sufficient.

“You left so hastily. You sure you are alright?” Castiel insists.

“I’m fine, really.” Dean runs a hand through his hair, trying to calm himself.

“You sound a bit breathy. Have you been running?” Castiel asks and before Dean can think about better answer he bursts out.

“What? No. I’ve just. I’ve just had some business to take care of, you know.”

There is a moment of silence on the other site of line which is followed by soft and almost silent: “Oh.”

And Dean freezes. “It’s not like that, Castiel. It’s not what you think it is.”

“I... I got to go. Bye, Dean.” Castiel says, his voice sounding nervous and then there is a click and the phone is dead.

“Castiel? Cas?” Dean shouts in the phone but there is no answer.

Dean sighs heavily and throws his phone against the wall, swearing audibly. He is so screwed. How could he do it... to his friend. He will never be able to look into Castiel’s eyes ever again without feeling guilty. He was such a dick. And just when he started to feel like he find a real friend in Castiel.


	7. So Close But Yet So Far

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for such a late update, but there has been a little glitch in e-mails with my incredible beta: http://ravenclxws.tumblr.com/
> 
> Warnings: slightly mature content

_“It is impossible to see the angel unless you first have a notion of it.”_

James Hillman

 

_“Five more minutes, Jerry.” Dean shouts as he hears knocking on the cubby-hole’s door and casually returns to making out with some random girl from high school. When he hears door open he quickly turns around and sees his so called girlfriend standing there. It’s a girl he has been dating for last two weeks he and Sam were staying in this school, but girlfriend? Dean doesn’t do girlfriends._

_“Amanda, hey!” he tries to look as casual as possible though he sees Amanda is pretty pissed off Amanda already. She flicks her glance to dark haired girl and then back to Dean, not saying anything._

_“Ehm, Gettysburg address, 1863, right?” Dean turns to dark haired girl and then back to Amanda. Her glance is even harder. Brunette leaves the room nervously, smiling sheepishly and Dean stays there alone with Amanda, trying to come up with believable excuse._

_“Ehm, history test next period. We're studying.” he smirks. Amanda turns on her heels and aims it to the hall full of students as Dean follows her, trying to make it up for himself: “Come on, baby. She means nothing to me. Don't be mad.”_

_“I'm not mad, Dean.” Amanda says adamantly, turning back to him. “I thought maybe... underneath your whole '_ I could give a crap', _bad-boy thing, that there was something more going on.” she shakes her head. “I mean, like the way you are with your brother,” she sighs, “but I was wrong.”_

_“And you spend so much time trying to convince people that you're cool, but it's just an act. We both know that you're just a sad... lonely little kid. And I feel sorry for you, Dean.”_

 

 **********

 

            Dean knows his last dream was quite truthful. He is not a kid anymore maybe, but he still is sad and lonely human being. He used to have Sam at least. But now, it seems like day after day they are growing away from themselves more. It seems like something crucial has changed, like the trust to each other has weakened, like they tried to hide from one another more and more things. And Dean doesn’t know what happened – what changed. It seemed to be quite alright after their reuniting with dad. But then Dean’s nightmares came; and with it it seemed also the change in Sam behavior towards Dean. And the only other person Dean started to trust in last few weeks? He couldn’t look in his eyes now; not after what he has done. So Dean rather sits on his couch with bottle of Jack, the only friend who has never failed him, never lied to him, never abandoned him. 

 

**********

 

It’s about four in the morning on Tuesday when Dean is coming back from another night in the bar. He finds himself in the bar, drinking, very often these days. Actually, he started this habit of his exactly a week ago, after not so great session with Castiel.

“Oh God,” Dean groans and leans against the doorframe, trying to fit the key into the key hole. Just the thought of Castiel’s name brings back the feeling of guilt and shame Dean is so successfully cherishing in himself. He can’t even think about going to Castiel’s office again. Not after what he has done. It would be definitely better if they won’t see each other for a while. 

As Dean walks into his apartment, his watch shows 4:15, when he hears muffled voices from Sam’s room. Dean frowns a bit and checks his watch again. It’s still 4:15 and he quickly thinks about the reason why would Sam be up so early. He closes the door and makes it slowly and as quiet as possible towards Sam’s room. He sees the light coming from behind ajar door and he can now hear the voices clearer.

“I’m out, Ruby,” Sam says and Dean can see his shady figure moving behind the door.

“No. I need it now.”

“Ok, see you tonight then?”

“Great.”

Dean hears click of the phone and he sees Sam’s figure moving closer to door. He quickly makes it back to hallway so it would look like he has just come back from the bar.

“Oh, hey, Sam,” he says as nothing was going on as he sees Sam coming to living room.

“Hey, Dean,” Sam says, frowning a bit. “You’ve been out?”

“Yeah, yeah. I was.” Dean nods. “You’ve up awfully early.” he broaches.

“Yes I,” Sam says clearing his throat a bit and Dean can sense his voice gets more nervous. “I need to study and I have classes pretty early today.”

“Right,” Dean nods again, still acting like he hasn’t heard anything. “So... I’m off to bed then,” he says and aims for his bedroom, but stops in his tracks as he hears Sam behind him saying:

“Don’t you have an appointment with Castiel, today?”

“I... I’m not going there today,” Dean says not able to look into Sam’s eyes.

“Did something happen between you two?” Sam frowns again.

“What? No. Of course not. Everything is in perfect order. It’s just... Castiel is off town today. That’s all.” he tries to sound as convincing as possible.

“Sure,” Sam only murmurs and continues on his way to kitchen.  

 

**********

 

_“Dean’s all mine.” Nick says, smirking slightly._

_“You poisoned him.” Sam practically growls, breathing heavily, as Dean clenches him in tight grip, the knife positioned right at Sam’s neck._

_“No, I gave him what he needed. And it wasn't some bitch in a g-string.” Nick shakes his head. “It was you. A little brother that looked up to him, that he could trust. And now he loves me.”_

_Sam groans again as he tries to fight Dean and let go of the grasp he gets on him._

_“He'd do anything for me. And I got to tell you, Sam, that kind of devotion – watching someone kill for you...  is the best feeling in the world.”_

_“Is that why you're slutting all over town?” Sam asks._

_“Oh. I get bored.” Nick raises his brows. “Like we all do. And I want to fall in love again and again and again._

_“Tell you what, I have fought some nasty sons-of-bitches, but you are one needy, pathetic loser.”Sam snarls._

_“You won't feel that way in a minute.” Nick says sharply as he grabs Sam by his jaw and shoots his saliva into his mouth._

_“No, no.” Sam tries to avoid the poison, but it’s too late. Nick motions Dean to let go of Sam and he himself backs a bit as Sam steps forward._

_“So, I know you two have a lot you want to get off your chests. So why don't you discuss it... and whoever survives can be with me... forever?” Nick says playfully._

_“Well, I don't know when it happened. Maybe when I was in Hell. Maybe when I was staring right at you. But the Sam I knew, he's gone.” Dean says sternly._

_“That so?” Sam retorts._

_“And it's not the demon blood or the psychic crap. It's the little stuff – the lies, the secrets.” Dean continues._

_“Oh, yeah? What secrets?” Sam asks._

_“Phone calls to Ruby, for one.” Dean says._

_“So I need your say-so to make a phone call?” Sam grunts._

_“That's the point. You're hiding things from me. What else aren't you telling me?” Dean insists._

_Sam only smirks and shakes his head: “None of your business.”_

_“See what I mean? We used to be in this together. We used to have each other's backs!”_

_“Okay, fine. You want to know why I didn't tell you about Ruby?” Sam asks. “And how we're hunting down Lilith? Because you're too weak to go after her, Dean. You're holding me back. I'm a better hunter than you are – stronger, smarter. I can take out demons you're too scared to go near.”_

_“That's crap.”_

_“You're too busy sitting around feeling sorry for yourself, whining about all the souls you tortured in Hell. Boo-hoo.”_

_Dean can’t take it anymore and he throws a knife after Sam as he lunges after him. The knife misses Sam as he ducks it and punches Dean right in his face. Dean returns him the blow and they yet change few more when Sam takes over and throws Dean over the half wall with one final blow._

_“You're not standing in my way... anymore.” Sam breaths out as he lifts up Dean to the wall, giving him another punch._

_Dean manages to fight Sam back as he ducks out his third punch and back up to the room, panting heavily. He gathers up his last strength and throws Sam over the door of motel room, followed by Nick, who stands up from his watcher position on the couch and follows Winchester’s brother in the hall._

_Sam is lying on the ground, trying to catch his breath as Dean slowly and clumsily stands up, looking around. He notices an emergency axe and decides to break the glass and ends this. He looks over his brother still on the ground and breaks the glass, his face adamant._

_“Do it.... Do it for me, Dean.” Nick says sycophantically as he looks to the Sam on the ground and then back to Dean, standing over him, with the axe in his hand._

_“Tell me again how weak I am, Sam, huh? How I hold you back.” Dean shouts at Sam and hauls off for final blow, when his hand is stopped by someone else and he has only few seconds to recognize it’s Bobby, when he suddenly feels a sharp pain in his arm and he drops the axe on the ground as he grabs his shoulder._

_Nick takes flight, but Bobby is quicker. “No. No!” Sam shouts, still from his position on the ground, as Bobby throws a bronze dagger in Nick’s back, taking him down. And so the Siren’s spell fades away together with Siren itself._

 

**********

 

When Dean returns home from work that evening, he can still feel hangover headache from previous night. He shortly thinks about doing that banana cocktail of Castiel’s but repels the thought right after as he doesn’t want to do anything associated with Castiel, not even to think about the guy. He totters into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water, going to sit on the couch in the living room. As he sits down, he sighs heavily and rubs his heavy eyelids tiredly. And suddenly, the weight of it all falls on him. He would like to talk to someone... about Sam, about Castiel, about his meaningless getting drunk every night in the week. But who should he talk to? Bobby? He would probably say him something like:  _“Well boo-hoo, I’m sorry your feelings are hurt, princess.”_  and kick him back to work. So yeah, he has no-one, basically. So he just closes his eyes and wishes all of his problems would just fade away.

_“You gonna help me finish this?” Sam asks annoyed and tired from the argument about their new job. Dean puffs out and watches his breath turns to steam in the cold night as he stands up and sniffles a bit. He goes to help Sam to complete the ritual, when the loud: “Hey!” sounds somewhere behind them._

_They both turn in direction of the voice and see the elderly man with flashlight standing between the graves. “What are you doing here?” he asks suspiciously._

_“Uh, look, just... take it easy.” Sam says as he flickers between Dean and the cemetery keeper._

_“What the hell is this?” the keeper asks as he flashes the light on the candles and symbols spread on the grave of a young boy._

_“Oh, this...” Dean looks on the grave, “this is not what it looks like.” he smirks and laughs nervously._

_“Really? Because it looks like devil worship.” the keeper says firmly._

_“What?” Dean exclaims. “No, no. This is_ not _Devil worship.” he says smirking as he tries to come up with the good answer, glancing to Sam from time to time for a bit of help._

_“This, this is, this, this is the... I don't have a good answer.” Dean finally admits watching his brother to give him his trade mark bitch face._

_“Look, we're leaving.” Sam says making his best puppy eyes to convince the keeper._

_“You're not going anywhere” the keeper says menacingly, shaking his head, leaving Sam a bit taken aback, as he frowns a bit. “...ever again ...Sam.” the keeper finishes making small steps towards Sam. Sam raises his brows, the surprise and fear quite visible in his eyes._

_The keeper’s eyes suddenly changes into the two white balls and Dean recognizes his old acquaintance._

_“Alastair.” he nods.” I thought you got deep-fried, extra crispy.”_

_“No.” Alastair shakes his head again. “Just the pediatrician I was riding. His wife's still looking for him. It's hilarious.” he raises his brows._

_“Anyway...” he looks back to Sam. “No time to chat. Got a hot date with Death.” he says as he raises his hand and with a slight amount of effort he makes Dean flying across the cemetery making him hit one of the graves hard._

_As Dean is falling into unconsciousness, he hears the muffled voice of his brother shouting his name. And then the pitch black envelopes him._

A loud noise of someone crashing into the piece of furniture jerks Dean awake. When his eyes accustom to the dark he recognizes the tall dark figure of his brother staggering into the living room.

“Sam?” Dean frowns. “Are you... drunk?”

“Dean,” Sam exclaims, trying to keep himself on his two feet without any help. “I’m good.”

“What the hell have you been doing?” Dean asks concerned.

“Oh, look who’s talking. The one who is getting drunk 24/7.” Sam laughs a bit at the irony.

“I-” Dean starts but is unable to finish the sentence. He doesn’t know how, because actually, Sam has got the point.

“What happened?” he insists on straight answer anyway.

“What? Can’t I have a moment of peace from you? I’ve been out, with Ruby. Celebrating.”

“Ruby?” Dan growls. “Sam she’s...,” he starts but is interrupted by Sam.

“She is my girlfriend and I’m sick of your constant judging her. I can choose with who I meet and with who I don’t. I don’t need your say-so to have a good time when I want.”

“Yeah?” Dean snarls, pissed. “You can’t see how is she manipulating you? I don’t know what is she giving you, but man, it changes you.”

“What?” Sam gasps. “What is she giving me?”

“I heard you two talking the other day. Are you in drugs, Sam?” Dean is already standing, pacing around the room angrily.

“So you are eavesdropping now?” Sam asks. “Good to know, Dean.”

“I didn’t need to, if you would just tell me what the hell is going on with you,” Dean shouts.

“Yeah? And why don’t you tell me what the hell is going on with you and trying to get yourself to grave with alcohol?” Sam shouts back.

“That’s none of your business,” Dean snaps back.

“See there,” Sam smirks. “Trust should be mutual, you know? But since you want to know so much why I’m meeting up with Ruby, I’ll tell you. Because I don’t want to end up like you. Like a lonely, broken, shattered and sad little wreck.” 

Dean stops pacing around and stares hard at his brother. He would have been angry. He should have been. But deep down he knows all of this is true. And it leaves a terrible emptiness in Dean’s stomach.

“I was looking up to you all my life, but to what I was looking up to? You are self-loathing, stubborn son-of-a-bitch with pissbaby job and crappy anger management! You can’t even face your problems straight, you rather keep everything inside and keep torturing yourself. You’re afraid. Afraid to act, afraid to be happy. You rather walk away and act like nothing has happened than to make something out of your situation. And I don’t want to be like you. That’s why I need to study my ass off to become a high respected lawyer and have my- as you say- 'apple pie life', which you are so stubbornly rejecting. But we both know that is what you want too. But you are too afraid to act on your instincts so you rather solace yourself with one night stands then to try and find someone you can really love and trust. You are weak, Dean. And I am nothing like you. I am stronger, smarter and better man then you will ever be. Just keep boo-hooing about your pissy life, because it won’t get better.”

Dean suddenly feels the new wave of rage as he marches forward and punches Sam in the face, making Sam to fall on the ground. He immediately regrets it however and stares on his brother on the ground for a while. Then he does exactly what Sam expects of him. Turns to leave to drink away his anger and despair.

 

*********

 

            Dean is standing in front of Castiel’s office, indecisively. There is no one in waiting room, not Anna or Rachel. And Dean is thankful for that. He was thinking about this for a long time. And he still isn’t quite sure if he wants to confront Castiel. But he knows he will not change his situation by not going to the sessions. He tried it once, but what did he accomplish? Nothing. In the worst scenario Castiel will show up at his front door again and Dean really wasn’t prepared to deal with the guy in his apartment right now.

So here he stands, facing the door to Castiel’s office, gathering strength to knock and come in. It was two weeks since that incident after all. What can go wrong? Anyway, he needs to talk to the man. Sam apologized to him this morning for last night. Said it was the alcohol talking, but Dean knows better. He was there too many times to know that you can’t blame everything on alcohol. It’s you talking then, your real thoughts, not some crappy alcohol. And it hurts to know Sam sees him in this way. But what hurts more is the little nudging feeling in the back of Dean’s head telling him that it is true. 

So he decided. He will rather face Castiel though it will be the most awkward moment in his life than to walk away again. Well, he decided. He is going to tell him. Or apologize; or something. He must do something. So he breathes in a long heavy sigh and knocks on door. He waits for a while, but he hears nothing. He thinks about turning around and leaving for a split of a second, but he feels an irresistible urge to try and open the door. He places his hand on the handle slowly and pushes it down. It goes smoothly. Dean takes it as a good sign and he pushes the door open a bit stronger than he intends to. As he swings the door open he hears crashing of the dishes and the loud exclaim: “Son of a...”

Dean hurls into the office seeing bewildered Castiel standing there, his vest and shirt all soaked in coffee, the empty cup with saucer lying on the floor.

“Dean,” Castiel sighs out as he notices the other man.

“Dammit, I’m sorry!” Dean exclaims as he steps into the office letting himself lead by the instinct, as he hurls himself to Castiel. 

“You need to take it off,” he says hastily, realising he’s suddenly standing all too close to Castiel. Castiel seems to agree as he loses the vest immediately, making Dean to pull away a bit. He stands only in the former white shirt now covered with brown spots. Dean can’t help not to notice how close-fitting the shirt is and how the signs of lean muscles are shaping under it. Castiel sighs in defeat and unbuttons first two buttons of his shirt as he speaks factually: “I should chance my clothes I guess.”

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, feeling really bad about ruining Castiel’s shirt. 

“That’s ok.” Castiel responds, eyeing his wet clothes and sighing resignedly again. He places his hands back on the buttons, when he hears Dean’s almost whispering voice:

“You... you’ll be all sticky, if you won’t clean this.”

Castiel looks up at him and something in Dean’s eyes makes him go stiff, not able to move or do anything. His look is mixed up, his mouth slightly open as he watches how Dean’s hand is fishing out his dark blue bandana and moving closer to him again. Castiel can’t suppress a slight almost inaudible moan as the cloth touches his bare skin and it soaks the coffee out of his collar bone. Dean feels like it isn’t his hand doing the movements as he leans in, closer to Castiel, and rubs the cloth against Castiel’s chest slightly. Castiel seems to stiffen even more, his hands fall down lifelessly as he tries to suppress another moan as Dean’s hand touches his bare skin with wet scarf.

As Dean is wiping out the wet spots of coffee from Castiel’s chest carefully, he feels the other man’s eyes on him. He looks up and sees two blue startled ones looking at him. He sees Castiel swallow hard as he says, almost inaudibly: “Dean, I... you shouldn’t.”

Dean stops for a while as he realises he really shouldn’t be doing this, ever. He looks down to his hand, still on Castiel’s chest. Dean knows how wrong this is. If only it wouldn’t feel so damn good. If only he wasn’t so drawn to this man.

Dean isn’t sure why but he starts rubbing the cloth against Castiel’s chest again, more eagerly. He joins his hand with other one to unbutton next few buttons as he tries to wipe out every last drop of coffee from Castiel’s chest. He hears Castiel’s breath and it’s heavy short and Dean continues to unbutton him. He sees the delicate alabaster skin underneath the shirt and it is same as he pictured. Lean muscles, smooth skin. Dean only wishes he could wipe away the coffee with his mouth. 

“Dean!” Castiel whispers almost inaudibly making Dean to stop. “I... I should go,” he says solemnly, but Dean can sense the signs of nervousness in his voice. “...to clean my clothes.”

“Yeah, you should do that,” Dean says absentmindedly but doesn’t seem to have any intension to move away. They still stand there, so close to each other, Dean’s hand on Castiel’s almost fully bare chest, looking into each other’s eyes, when Castiel speaks again: “I should take that bandana too... to wash it up.”

It takes Dean a moment to understand what is Castiel talking about and when he does he glances down to his hand and he can’t believe his eyes. He sees it only for a split of a second, but he is sure he isn’t mistaken. There is a big buldge in Castiel’s pants and suddenly Dean notices his trousers went tighter long before too. He swallows hard as he flickers his eyes back to Castiel’s.

“I... I need to go, I’m sorry,” Castiel says suddenly, his voice broken and nervous, as he rips the piece of cloth from Dean’s hand and practically runs out of the office.

“Oh God!” Dean sighs out, feeling his breath quickening. 

He really has to go. He has to go and take really long really cold shower now.

 

*********

 

Unfortunately, really long, really cold shower isn’t enough for Dean, as he can’t stop thinking about the other man. He is constantly flicking his eyes to his phone, playing with the thought of calling Castiel. What if he catches him right during the act? Like he almost caught Dean that day? What if he calls him and he hears Castiel breathing out his name between shaky breaths as he wouldn’t be able to stop touching himself. What if Dean would make him touch himself? Wherever he wanted him to? Would he do it? Would he come for Dean? Only for him? Moaning his name the whole time, making his voice all raspy and tired.

As Dean turns on more cold water he realises this is definitely not helping him to stop thinking about Castiel. He chooses to rather go to visit the bar again, maybe when he will be drunk as hell he would finally stop thinking about him. And maybe he only needs a good fuck. Yes, that is exactly what he needs. He hasn’t slept with anyone for a goddamn long time. No wonder he reacts like this to few touches and a bare skin. He needs a really good sex and everything will be in perfect order again. And where is the better place to hook up with someone then the bar?

 

********

 

_“It’s iron.” Sam exclaims as he looks over them. They are both trapped on the platform, surrounded by the iron chain. The demon who gets them there is grunting in pain and his hands are fizzling, but they are sure it was worth it. They are ghosts now after all. And now they can’t get away, nor go back to their bodies._

_“Boys.” They hear the sick voice and shot their heads towards the sound of it. “Find the place okay?” Alastair asks unctuously._

_Alastair is coming closer to them slowly, and when he stops the demon gives him the shot-gun. Alastair looks it over slowly, mocking smirk ever plastered on his face, as he points on Dean with it and shots._

_Dean feels a sharp pain in his chest and for a little while he looses the control of his ghost-body, making him to disappear. When he comes back, he is still panting heavily, his breath quick and short._

_“Alastair,” he breaths out. “You bastard.”_

_“Well, go on.” Alastair calls upon Sam. “Why don’t you try some of your mojo on me now, hotshot?”_

_Dean snaps his head towards Sam. What the hell is he talking about? He thought Sam ended with that stuff._

_“It’s hard to get it up when you’re not wearing your meat, huh?” Alastair continues derisively._

_“Go to hell.” Sam says firmly._

_“Oh, if only I could. But they just keep sending me back up to this Arctic crap hole.” Alastair says irritated as he walks over the room._

_“To kill Death?” Dean asks._

_“No, to kill Death twice. It takes two to break a seal.” Alastair explains._

_“I figured another one would show up, you know. They’re like lemmings.” He looks over two Reapers lying unconsciously on the ground. Alastair reloads the gun and shoots another pack of rock salt into Sam. As he disappears, he turns to Dean and says, again with that mocking smirk:_

_“By the way... it’s good to see you again, Dean.”_

_“You can shoot us all you want, but you can’t kill us.”_

_As Sam appears again, Alastair says: “Ah. That so?”_

_“Anywho...” he says as he inspects the scythe he has, “moon’sin the right spot. The board is set. Let’s get started, shall we?”_

_“You gonna kill a Reaper with that?” Dean asks ironically, raising his brows. “It’s a little on the nose, don’t you think?” he smirks._

_“Is it?” Alastair says as he examines the scythe once again, turning it around in his hand. “An old friend lent it to me. You know, he doesn’t really ride a pale horse. But he does have three amigos. And they’re just jonesing for the Apocalypse.” He says as he walks towards the one Reaper in the middle of the ritual emblem and kneels down to him. “It pays to have friends in low places. Don’t you think?”_

_He grabs the Reaper and puts the scythe under his neck, chanting the spell in Latin. And Dean and Sam can’t do anything but watch. As Alastair finishes the chanting, he jugulates the Reaper and the lightning spreads out behind the windows. Alastair stands up and walks towards the other Reaper; Tessa. As he grabs her she awakes from her unconscious state and whispers: “No.”_

_Alastair puts the scythe under her neck, as she tries to fight him, but she is too weak: “Stop!” she screams._

_Dean notices Sam to look up at the ceiling and when he follows his gaze he sees Sam is looking up at the droplight above Alastair and is concentrating on pulling it down. Dean helps him with what power he has as the ghost and the droplight falls right at the nick of the time, as Alastair almost finishes his Latin chanting. The droplight falls on the edge of the emblem breaking the pattern and Tessa manages to teleports away. She reappears next to Sam and Dean breaking their iron prison and Dean smirks sarcastically, as he says “Bye-bye” to Alastair before he, Sam and Tessa disappear again. Dean and Tessa reappears outside the building, but Sam is nowhere around._

_“Where’s your brother?” Tessa asks as they look around._

_“I’ll find him. You get out of here.” Dean says quickly._

 

*********

 

Dean wakes up abruptly, his breath heavy and deep.

“Damn, Alastair,” he murmurs as he sweeps away the sweat from his brow. He closes his eyes in sitting position on the bed for a little while again, when he feels a gentle touch of soft hand on his shoulder.

“Are you alright?” he hears a soft woman’s voice next to him.

“Yeah I’m, I’m fine, Cassie.” he says, his eyes still closed, as he runs a hand through his face, trying to get rid of the unwanted words.

“It’s Carol, silly,” she corrects him, laughing playfully.

“Yeah I’m... I’m sorry," Dean murmurs again a bit irritated.

He picked up her in the bar with intention to forget about Castiel and what does he do the moment he wakes up? He fucks up her name to something what very much sounds like nickname for Castiel. Dean looks to her, taking in notion every feature of hers. She has long blonde curly hair and brown eyes, her lips a tin line of red and her skin is slightly tanned. She is actually quiet dumb too, at least what Dean caught up from the not very long conversation they had in the bar. She is everything Castiel is not and yet still, Dean doesn’t find her very pleasant anymore. Maybe it was alcohol, when he decided to go with her to her apartment, maybe it was just his stubbornness, but he wishes he didn’t do it now. He thought a good sex would get him back in the line and he will stop thinking about those damn blue eyes and pointy hair, but it didn’t.

“Are you sure, you’re alright?" she asks again.

“Don’t worry about me,” Dean says, “it was just a bad dream.”

“Like a nightmare?” she exclaims. “Oh I hate nightmares. When I was a kid and I had a nightmare, my mom always came to me at night and I talked about it with her... and it helped.” she pauses a bit. “Do you want to talk about it?” 

“No I... I don’t think so,” Dean says.

“You should talk about it with someone,” she insists.

“I used to have someone to talk about with. But, I seem to fuck up every goddamn relationship I have with anyone.”

“Was it Cassie?” she asks softly and Dean immediately shots her confused look.

“I’m not as dumb as I look,” she smiles weakly.

Well then, maybe it was alcohol what made her look so dumb. And maybe it was again just what Dean wanted her to be.

“I,” Dean starts but she interrupts him with a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“You would rather want to be with her now, don’t you?” she asks softly.

“I,” Dean starts, “I don’t know what I want anymore.”

“You should go.” she says, but her look is not irritated or angry. She understands. And that makes Dean feel even worse.

“I don’t suppose you want me to call you?” he half smirks as he stands up from the bed and puts on his clothes.

“Only if you would like to talk about your dreams. But, for your own good I hope Cassie will be the one you will talk about it with.”

Dean only nods, not able to say the word as he sends her another smile, now more honest one.

“Goodbye, Carol,” he says before he leaves.

“Goodbye, Dean.” she sends him one last smile.

 

********

 

Castiel is standing in front of familiar door once again. He tries to gather up strengths to knock, but he can’t make himself to do so. He knows he must talk with the other man. It has gone too far and they can’t go on like this anymore. Castiel finds it harder and harder to restrain himself from Dean, especially when he keeps bumping into him on any occasion. He has never experiences this with any of his clients. Sure he heard about it. And he knew it would happen. But it was still quite unexpected and startling. And he didn’t know what to do or to whom to talk about it. He sighs heavily for what feels like tenth time since he’s standing in front of Dean’s apartment and holds his hand to knock, but he fails again to do so. He only shakes his head and slouch his shoulders as he turns around, decided to rather leave into the rain outside, than face Dean personally. As he looks up, prepared to leave, his eyes meets up with two emerald ones and he is taken aback for a while as a freckled faced man is staring at him, eyes wide, water dripping from his nose and chin.

“Hey,” he says after an initial shock. “What.... What are you doing here?”

“Ehm,” Castiel clears his throat awkwardly, deciding if he should tell Dean right away, or not.

“Well ok then, you chatty Katty,” Dean smirks as he passes by Castiel to the door. “What about some tea to warm you up at first?”

“I...” Castiel says, “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’m not planning to stay long, Dean.” 

Dean looks over him and opens the door. “You’re not going to that Apocalypse outside. Look at yourself,” he motions to Castiel’s soaked clothes. “You need to dry at first. Come on in. This is no time for no.”

“I,” Castiel sighs a bit but surrenders either way and walks in.

“I’ll bring you some dry clothes, hang on,” Dean says as he leaves the room to go to his bedroom, leaving Castiel standing there quite bewildered. This is not going the way he imagined. By this time he wanted to have it over and be on the way out. And here he is, waiting in Dean’s living room for some dry clothes and a warm tea. No, this is not going the way he wanted at all.

When Dean comes back, he is all dry and clean, in new pair of jeans and pale beige long sleeved t-shirt. He also carries the pile of dry clothes and a towel for Castiel and he hands it to him with another slight smirk.

“Ehm. I’ll go make that tea,” he says a bit nervously and leaves into the kitchen.

Castiel stands there for a while, looking desperately at the pile of clothes. He is trying to decide if he shouldn’t rather talk to Dean immediately and leaves, but he finds himself quite reluctant to do so. He only sighs again and takes the towel, trying to dry himself as much as possible.

As Castiel is buttoning up Dean’s dry trousers and taking t-shirt into his hands, he suddenly hears very distinct “WOW!” from behind himself and he jerks around, instinctively raising up the t-shirt in his hands to his chest.

“Uhm,” Dean clears his throat audibly, visibly taken aback. “I’m sorry. I just.... I didn’t expect you to... you know, have tattoo.”

“Oh,” Castiel sighs out, finally realising what Dean was referring to. “Oh right. I... uhm, yes. I do have a tattoo.” he says feeling his ears getting red.

“I know this is quite inappropriate,” Dean shifts his gaze to the floor, shifting his way uncomfortably. “But... do you think I could? I mean... It looks really awesome, I mean, from the glimpse I have seen. You think I could look at it better?”

“Uhm,” Castiel seems to weigh his options for a while, but he doesn’t see any harm in letting Dean look over his tattoo. After all, he is only glad he can delay his confession ever more. Castiel nods slightly, turning slowly back to Dean. 

Dean walks closer, looking over the magnificent tattoo of black wings spreading over Castiel’s shoulder blades and whole back.

“This is amazing,” Dean breathes out, truly amazed. “Do you think?” he asks, faltering slightly, “you think I could touch it?”

“I... yes,” Castiel says almost inaudibly.

Dean reaches out his hand slowly, a bit shakily. When his fingertips touch the smooth warm skin of Castiel, the other man shivers slightly.

“Sorry,” Dean murmurs prepared to pull his hand away, but the quick, immediate

“No, it’s ok.” persuades him to not proceed on this action.

“I’m just, really sensitive to touch,” Castiel says almost whispering and if Dean could see his face now, he would also see the bright shade of red covering it. 

“It’s beautiful,” Dean breathes out as he follows the lines of the wings with his hand, smoothly caressing Castiel’s skin.

“Thank you,” Castiel replies, softly.

“You know,” Dean suddenly chuckles slightly and smiles, as he pulls his hand away. “I wouldn’t guess you are tattoo type, doc.”

Castiel pulls Dean’s t-shirt over his head slowly and turns to face Dean properly. “It’s something me, Gabriel, and Anna did when... when each of us turned 18. We... we wanted it to show we stick together. It reminds us who we are and that we are still family, no matter what.”

“So Anna has the same tattoo then?” Dean raises his eyebrows, quite pleasently surprised.

“Yes. Only hers is glittery white.”

“Gabriel’s shiny golden,” Castiel adds after a short pause.

“Why’s your pitch black then?” Dean asks, truly intrigued.

“I,” Castiel shifts his gaze to the ground rather to keep it on Dean’s face, “I have always felt somehow like a black sheep of my family. Even some of my siblings told me so. So I thought, it was kind of fitting.”

“That’s not true,” Dean says immediately, not minding all the boarders he is overstepping with this. He puts the comforting hand on Castiel’s shoulder, waiting for the other man to look up to him again. “I don’t think it’s like that. They are beautiful, Cas. And they are not like any other wings I have ever seen – tattooed or not. They are unique. Just like you.”

Castiel manages a weak smile, and adds a weak “thank you, Dean”.

“You know what?” Dean says a bit more cheerfully. “I have a tattoo of my own.”

“Is it so?”

“Yeah. Look.” Dean pulls down the collar of his shirt and reveals a pentagram circled with the flames.

“How did you come up with this?” Castiel frowns, looking over the tattoo.

“It’s actually from my dreams. In dream world me and Sammy has this as demon protection. I really liked it so I figured, why the hell not to get it done, right? Well, it isn’t anything special, like yours, but still, I like it.” Dean says smiling a bit sheepishly as he let his collar return to the same position he was in before.

“It’s really nice,” Castiel says, smiling encouragingly.

“Thanks,” Dean replies. “Uhm, yeah. I was about to take your wet clothes, by the way.” he says as he remembers why he came out of the kitchen in the first place.

“Oh, right,” Castiel says, handing him his clothes. “Thanks,” he says again.

“Don’t mention it,” Dean smiles, leaving with Castiel clothes to spread it to dry.

When Dean returns, they go to kitchen, sitting behind the table, cups with hot tea in front of them.

“So... How is Sam?” Castiel asks, partially really interested in Sam’s well-being, partially to avoid the topic he came to talk about.

“I don’t know,” Dean replies, suddenly very harshly. “We’ve... Since we’ve fought again he stopped telling me almost everything. I have no clue when or where he is going nowadays, not yet, why.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Castiel says quietly.

“Yeah, me too,” Dean replies. “But... you sure didn’t come to ask about Sam, did you?” Dean raises his brows.

“No,” Castiel replies glancing at Dean for a moment. “I... I’ve come to...” he shifts his gaze from one spot to another. “I’ve come to return you this,” he says as he remembers bandana Dean left hastily in his office the other day and pulls it out now. Dean looks at it and frowns a bit as he takes it from Castiel.

“Thanks,” he says and when he catches Castiel’s look finally, he smiles frankly. Immediately after that he however remembers why Castiel had his scarf and blushes again, shifting his gaze away from Castiel’s. He clears his throat and says, unsurely. “I... I don’t have a feeling this is the right reason why you came, isn’t it?”

“I...,” Castiel shifts in his seat, but is unable to finish his sentence.

“It’s tough, isn’t it?” he hears Dean smirks and he fixes his gaze with Dean’s, frowning a bit.

“Spilling out your emotions.” Dean finishes.

“Ah, this,” Castiel exclaims, “yes,” he nods slightly, lowering his gaze again.

“Well. You don’t need to tell me right away.” Dean says calmly. “Take your time. Relax a bit.”

Castiel sends him a bit startled look which makes Dean laugh pretty loud.

“Dude,” he says, “you know how to relax, don’t you?”

Castiel only lowers his gaze again, blushing a bit.

“What are you doing in your free time, man?” Dean asks truly intrigued.

“Usually read some nonfiction literature.” Castiel says quietly.

“You know it’s not relaxing when it has to do something with your job.” Dean teases him, smirking a bit.

“You know, there is The Dark Knight Rises on TV in a while. We can watch it, if you want.” Dean offers.

“I am not familiar with this movie, I believe,” Castiel admits.

“No way. You want to tell me you have never seen Batman?” Dean’s eyes widen. “Where do you live man? In Heaven?”

“I don’t understand why I should live in Heaven particularly.” Castiel frowns.

“No reason.” Dean says a bit too quickly, and adds after that: “Let’s just watch it.” he stands up and goes back to the living room, taking his cup with tea with him. Castiel follows him a bit reluctantly, not really sure what is he even doing anymore.

As the movie plays Castiel seems to loosen up a bit and he seems to enjoy the evening more, almost forgetting about the reason he came. From time to time however Dean wishes he wouldn’t watch Batman with the other man, as Castiel has constant metaphysical questions about the events in the movie.

“I still don’t understand. How could the nurses not notice Joker in the hospital? He is quite noticeable, frankly.”

Dean laughs and rolls his eyes what is about fifth time this evening. He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he actually loves explaining these nerdy things to Castiel. He feels like he has the chance to show Castiel something from his world.

“He’s... he’s also really sneaky,” Dean says and glances over Castiel who is tilting his head ever slightly again, apparently not comprehending something again.

As the movie closes to end, Dean is quite immersed in it and doesn’t notice Castiel’s lack of questions. As the subtitles starts, he looks over his friend to ask about his opinion on ending, when he notices Castiel is soundly asleep. Dean sighs a bit and leans forward to take the empty cup from Castiel’shands. As he does it, Castiel shifts unconsciously closer to him. Dean swallows hard, but decides to stay calm and not wake up Castiel. Instead he leans towards the coffee table, trying to reach for the remote control. He hears a little sound of disapproval behind him as his body warmth leaves the couch and he smiles absentmindedly. As he manages to turn off TV he hears soft, but clear: “Dean.”

He turns around with thought he woke up Castiel, but when he sees him, he realises he is still sound asleep. “What the hell?” Dean whispers. Does Castiel dream about him? Dean thinks he only imagined it, when it is there again. “Dean,” so quiet and soft as Castiel’s lips are moving, forming his name, but there is no doubt in what he says. He really dreams about him. But what is he dreaming about? 

Dean leans back to the couch realising Castiel shifts again and now he is almost plastered to him. He can’t deny it feels kind of good, but at the same time it is very strange. Especially, when Castiel has absolutely no idea of what’s going on. Dean only sighs and lifts up hand closer to Castiel to run it through his hair, trying to figure out what to do. As he does so, Castielseems to shift again and he places his hand on Dean’s chest firmly. Dean stiffs a bit, his hand in the mid space between his head and couch, when he hears Castiel to say yet something more: “You’re different.” 

What does that mean? Is he still dreaming about Dean? And if so, in what is he so different. Dean has no idea. But when he thinks about it, he feels it too. Castiel is different to him. He feels very comfortable with him, very safe. He feels like... like he really likes him. Dean only sighs and lets his hand fall to Castiel’s back, resigning totally.

 

********

 

_“What the hell?” Dean exclaims breathing heavily as the blinding lightning which took Alastair somewhere else disappears._

_“Guess again.” Husky voice sounds behind him and Dean turns around only to see Castiel standing there, looking at him illegibly._

_“What just happened?” Castiel asks rhetorically. “You and Sam just saved a seal. We captured Alastair.” When he sees Dean doesn’t responding he says: “Dean, this was a victory.”_

_“Well, no thanks to you.” Dean snaps back at him._

_“What makes you say that?” Castiel asks, his brows furrowed and his head tilted to that particular 25° angle._

_Dean waits a while, trying to calm himself, as he would like nothing more than to punch that damn angel in the face. “You were here the whole time?” he asks._

_“Enough of it.” Castiel says breaking the eye contact._

_“Well, thanks for your help with the rock salt.” Dean exclaims loudly and firmly._

_“That script on the funeral home, we couldn't penetrate it.” Castiel says factually._

_Dean thinks about it a bit and then acknowledges: “That was angel-proofing.”_

_“Why do you think I recruited you and Sam in the first place?” Castiel says, looking into Dean’s eyes again._

_“You recruited us?” Dean raises his brow._

_“That wasn't your friend Bobby who called, Dean. It wasn't Bobby who told Sam about the seal.”_

_“That was you.” Dean breaths out and Castiel only nods slightly, lowering his head._

_“If you want our help, why the hell didn't you just ask?” Dean snaps, full of anger again._

_Castiel frowns, looking to the ground: “Because whatever I ask...” he makes a full eyes contact again as he says firmly, “you seem to do the exact opposite.”_

_Dean breathes out and rolls his eyes, changing the topic: “So what now? People in this town, they just gonna start dying again?”_

_“Yes.” Castiel says simply._

_“These are good people.” Dean says, frowning. “Don't you think you can make a few exceptions?”_

_“To everything, there is a season.” Castiel says slowly._

_Dean thinks about it and says, a bit hopefully: “You made an exception for me.”_

_Castiel is quiet for a while, looking to the distance, not even blinking. Then he turns his head to Dean and states firmly: “You're different.” With that Castiel spreads his wings and flies away._

 

********

 

Castiel half opens his eyes as he nuzzles into the warm body next to him. He breathes in Dean’s scent as he is returning from the world of dreams back to reality. When he fully opens his eyes however, he stays stiff, watching the other man next to him sleeping. At first Castiel isn’t sure what to do, trying to at least remember what happened last night – and why the hell was he sleeping next to Dean on the couch – apparently in Dean’s apartment. The events of previous evening come slowly back to Castiel’s mind and slowly, carefully, Castiel sighs and leans away from Dean. Castiel can’t say he didn’t enjoy himself as he remembers the relaxing evening they shared. But when he thinks about the fact why he came here in the first place; to tell Dean he can’t be his psychologist anymore; it just all went too wrong. He shortly thinks about waking Dean up, but talking about this stuff now wouldn’t be any better than doing it last night, he thinks. So rather he aims to Dean’s bedroom and quickly changes into his dry clothes. When he walks out of the room he bounces into Sam and stays taken aback for a while.

“Oh, hey, Castiel,” Sam says with a slight smirk.

“Hello, Sam,” Castiel says, lowering his gaze and clearing his throat nervously.

“So, everything’s good between you and Dean?” Sam asks raising his brows a bit.

“Ehm, yes, of course,” Castiel says quickly, avoiding Sam’s eyes.

He stays quiet for a while, looking to the ground and thinking about what to say yet, when he decides it would be better he leaves finally and says, making a full eye contact with Sam.

“Please, tell Dean I needed to go and... thank him for yesterday.” as he realise how it sounded, he adds: “I mean, for lending me dry clothes, that’s all.”

“Sure,” Sam says with another slight smirk and nods, watching Castiel leave.

After Castiel leaves and Dean still sleeping on the couch, Sam goes to kitchen, making some coffee for himself and then takes it back to living room. When he passes Dean he bumps into his feet purposely, so he would wake him. Sam sits on the other side of couch and sips from his coffee as he hears Dean’s snarling about how he is all stiffen and aching.

“What?” Dean gasps when he notices Sam sitting on the couch next to him. “Where’s Cas?” he exclaims.

Sam smirks and sips from his coffee again. “Really, Dean?”

“Really what?” Dean snaps back.

“You have already given him a nickname?” Sam asks.

“I didn’t,” Dean retorts. “It’s the dreams. My dream-self calls him like that.”

“Yeah right.” Sam smirks again. “And does your dream self also sleep with him on the couch?”

Dean gasps for air a little as he turns all shades of red and blunders out: “I... I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah?” Sam asks teasingly and puts his coffee cup on the table in front of him. “I’m talking about this.” he says as he pulls out his cell-phone and shows it to Dean. Dean looks at it a bit puzzled and then his features harden as he tries to grab hold of Sam’s phone. Sam is, unfortunately for Dean, quicker and he quickly hides his phone back to his pocket.

“Nah-ah,” he says, “I’m gonna get this framed.” he laughs.

“Why... did you... have to... take a photo?” Dean snarls.

“Because... it was so damn cute I couldn’t have resist not to.”

“You son of a...” Dean starts but Sam doesn’t let him finish as he continues in his mocking.

“Oh come on. Say it’s not cute. Two of you so desperately clenching to each other.” he smirks widely.

“It was an accident,” Dean snarls grumpily, standing up from the couch.

“Sure it was,” Sam teases him again.

“Stop doing that,” Dean turns to his brother angrily. “There’s nothing between two of us. I’m not into dudes.”

“I have never said either of this.” Sam says smirking and his features soften a bit.

“You know. I’m just glad you have somebody to talk to, Dean. Even though it’s just your psychologist.”

Dean only stares at him for a while and then turns to go to kitchen grabbing one cold beer from the fridge. Yeah, it’s peachy. Having somebody to talk to, when you can’t talk even to your own brother.

But that’s it, after all. It is Castiel’s job to listen to his crap and that’s where it ends. Whatever illusion of friendship he thought they have they hadn’t. It’s all just this... an illusion. Dean is all alone, like he always has been. And like he always will be.


	8. What the Friends Are For

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope I am fulfilling my promise and not updating too late (:
> 
> As always, big big thanks to my beta, ravenclxws, who compliments my work way too much! LOL
> 
> No chapter warnings.

_„Real intimacy is only possible to the degree that we can be honest about what we are doing and feeling.“_

Joyce Brothers

 

              As Dean walks into the waiting room, the quiet typing on the computer stops and he is once again faced with an unfriendly sight of Rachel‘s hard glare.

„Ehm, morning,“ Dean tries to be as polite as possible. He doesn‘t really care about Rachel‘s opinion about him, but why make it worse, right? He will rather put that fake smile on him and pretends he likes her. It can‘t hurt, can it?

„Mr. Winchester,“ she says dryly, „you may walk in.“

Dean half nods and turns to face door. After a long time he is kind of looking forward to his and Castiel‘s session. Sure it wasn‘t the walk in the garden of joy between them lately, but it‘s better then nothing. Dean knows it‘s only Castiel‘s job, but he can at least pretend he has a real friend, doesn‘t he? And that that friend really cares about him. He can talk to at least someone, when Sam hid himself from him.

As Dean walks into the office, he stops in his his trakcs suddenly as another unexpected sight reveals in front of him. Castiel is standing on the small very unstable looking step ladder and stretching to reach some book from the top shelf of his bookcase.

„Hey, Cas-tiel,“ Dean says unsurely from the door.

„Oh, hello Dean,“ Castiel exclaims surprised as he turns a bit to look at Dean. „Is it already our time?“ he turns to look at the clock on the other side of the room. As he does so, his foot slips a bit but he gets hold of the shelf in the nick of the time. Dean quickly jumps next to the ladder just in case, exclaiming: „Be careful up there, Cas.“

Castiel looks at him, a small almost unnoticeable smile on his face. Dean is unable to look away from those big blue eyes of his and he feels his heart is spreading with warmth and it scares the shit out of him. He isn’t sure, what does this mean, but he really likes Castiel and he feels good in his presence. And he sure wouldn’t like him to hurt himself, though a little. 

„Don‘t worry, Dean,“ Castiel‘s voice interrupts his line of thoughts. „I already have what I‘ve wanted.“ he waves with the thick leather book and starts his descending, but as he steps on the first lower step it loosens and Castiel is falling down, unable to grab to anything. His fall isn‘t that long, since he wasn‘t that high, but still high enough to earn some nasty injury as for example a twisted ankle. But as he‘s falling, he expects to feel the hard wooden floor to hit his back. What he isn’t expected is the feeling of two strong and firm arms wrapping around his shoulders and knees and he realises he can suddenly sense an all too familiar scent of Dean. As he blinks away the surprise he finds himself in a firm grip of Dean, realising his arms ended wrapped around Dean‘s neck instictively and the book he was reaching for somewhere on the floor.

„Well. I guess the leap of faith is behind us,“ Castiel tries to joke away the little awkwardness of their situation but is unable to stop a slight blush creeping up his cheeks.

„Ehm,“ Dean clears his throat, unable to look away from Castiel‘s eyes again. „I‘ve told you to be careful up there.“

Castiel is watching Dean carefully for a while, almost studying him, when he finally opens up his mouth to say something. And right in that moment Rachel storms into the room, alarmed: „Is everything alright, doc...“ her sentence is cut before the end as she sees two men in a weird embrace, standing next to the bookcase.

„Oh, Rachel,“ Castiel says surprised, as he would forget she is in the adjacent room. „Uhm, yes. Everything is quite alright. I believe, you can put me down already, Dean,“ he turns his face back to Dean seeing him slightly blushing as he only nods and puts him down.

„Ehm. Thank you for, you know, catching me,“ Castiel says sheepishly trying to clerify the situation for Rachel.

„Well,“ he clears his throat, „thank you, Rachel, for coming to help, but I think we are quite fine in here. You may go again.“

„Sure,“ she murmurs, still eyeing Dean a bit suspiciously, then turns and walks away.

Castiel goes to close the door behind her and as he does it, he hears Dean‘s voice from behind him: „It was loosened here.“

„I‘m sorry?“ Castiel frowns a bit, turning only to see Dean kneeling down next to the ladder.

„The screw on the step was loosened. And when you stepped on it, it let go.“

„I know,“ Castiel says a bit guiltily.

„You knew?“ Dean raises his eyes to meet his.

„Yes. I knew the screw was loosened. I‘ve,“ he sighs, „I was about to fix it sooner, I just didn‘t have time nor proper tools. I was avoiding that step when I was using it. I‘ve just, somehow forgot I shouldn‘t step on it now.“ He picks up the book he let fell to the ground as he speaks.

„Well, you should have it fixed,“ Dean says, „before, you know, you‘ll hurt yourself.“ he stares into Castiel‘s eyes for a moment and then a thought hit his mind: „You know, I have everything you need in garage. I can have it fixed in no time.“

„I... I can‘t ask that from you.“ Castiel says lowering his gaze.

„You‘ve not asked. I‘ve offered.“ Dean smiles slightly and is pleased when Castiel‘s eyes meet with his and he returns his smile.

„Very well then. When would you like to do it?“ he asks.

„Well, what about today? After my shift?“ Dean says but immediately shakes his head in disproval: „Oh no. I‘ve forgot. I‘m doing double shift today. I won‘t be done until six pm.“

„That is ok. I have a lots of work to do today. I‘ll be here long. You can come after that. I mean, if it is not inconvenient for you.“

„No, six would be great,“ Dean smiles again, now wider.

Castiel is unable to look away from Dean for a while, a little smile creeping on his lips too. But then he comes to his senses and clears his throat, as he states: „Well. It is settled then. We should start with our session now.“

„Sure,“ Dean says as he remembers why he came in the first place.

„So, do you have your dreams written down?“ Castiel asks as he moves towards his armchair on one side of the table.

„I... I don‘t actually,“ Dean replies quite sheepishly.

Castiel narrows his eyes a bit, questioningly.

„I... I don‘t seem to remember any since that fight with Sam I mentioned you when you were at my place.“ Dean says truthfully, lowering his eyes.

„Oh. I remember.“ Castiel says lowering his eyes for a while too, as he remembers what happened that day.

„So... what was the fight about?“ Castiel asks finally.

„Ehm,“ Dean clears his throat again, „well, the usual stuff... about how meaningless my life is and all that stuff.“

Castiel only furrows his brows more, questoning: „Why would you think that?“

„Because,“ Dean says, „I mean. What have I accomplished in my life? I have done nothing. I have a crappy job, crappy life, crappy every thing. I can‘t even have as relationship, cause I don‘t know how to handle one. I screw up everything I touch."

„You know that‘s not true,“ Castiel says, forgetting about his profesional attitude for a while. „You don‘t have meaningless life. You have gave meaning to your brother‘s life.“

„Yeah. If that‘ve only been true. I mean, it seems he lost its meaning some time earlier.“

„What do you mean?“ Castiel asks, frowning again.

„I mean, it seems he lost his track a long time ago. He... he‘s meeting with that chick, Ruby, you know,“ he says and Castiel only nods. „And... I mean, I‘m not quite sure... but I think.... I think she‘s giving him something.“ he says finally.

„Something like what?“ Castiel asks, narrowing his eyes.

„I‘m not sure. Drugs I guess.“ Dean says, sighing heavily.

„How.... How do you know that?“ Castiel asks. 

„I‘m not sure. I‘ve overheard few suspicious phone calls with her. And that disappearances in the middle of the night? That’s not normal too."

„You know what it is?“ Castiel asks, his voice a bit concerned.

„I... I don‘t,“ Dean admits. „But... It can‘t be anything good, can it?“

„I’m afraid not,“ Castiel sighs heavily.

            The rest of the session goes on the similar way. They are talking about Dean’s life, about his crappy relationship with Sam and about the problems Sam might be in. Dean is quite surprised, when Castiel suggests to help Dean with finding out what Sam is taking, if he is taking anything. All he needs to do is to ransack Sam’s room and finds out if he has something suspicious in there. Well, it shouldn’t be that hard, should it? Dean is afraid the harder part will yet come. It also isn’t very profesional or trustworthy, but let’s face it. They are in kind of alarming situation here.

 

*********

 

_Dean holds his gaze on Castiel for a while, overthinking his situation. He doesn’t like it, not one bit, but it seems he doesn’t have any other choice. At least he can maybe get something from Castiel. He turns to Uriel, still standing firmly in his place, his look hard._

_„I want to talk to Cas... alone.“ Dean says resolutely._

_Uriel is quiet for a while, his look unreadable. Castiel is watching him closely, trying not think about anything, as he knows Uriel could quite easily read his mind._

_„I think I'll go seek... revelation.“ Uriel says, his gaze shifting between Dean and Castiel standing behind him, few feet away. Castiel looks away for a while, slightly sighing in relief._

_„We might have some further orders.“ Uriel finishes._

_Dean looks at him, nodding, as he says with a slight smirk: „Well, get some doughnuts while you're out.“_

_Uriel chuckles unpleasantly: „Ah, this one just won't quit,will he? I think I'm starting to like you, boy.“ as he finishes he disappears, flying away, only flapping of his wings noting he left._

_Dean sighs out too, turning back to Castiel „You guys don't walk enough. You're gonna get flabby.“ he jokes away but is met only with Castiel’s furrowing of his brows and narrowing his eyes._

_„You know, I'm starting to think Junkless has a better sense of humor than you do.“ Dean says._

_„Uriel's the funniest angel in the garrison. Ask anyone.“ Castiel replies, deadly serious._

_Dean opens and closes his mouth, trying to come up with some words, but is trully unable to continue in this conversation. He closes his eyes for a while, letting it all sink and sighs out a heavy breath. He makes few steps forward, closer to Castiel, as he captures his eyes again._

_„What's going on, Cas?“ he asks urgently. „Since when does Uriel put a leash on you?“_

_„My superiors have begun to question my sympathies.“ Castiel says, still in same serious tone._

_„Your sympathies?“ Dean raises his eyebrows._

_„I was getting too close to the humans in my charge... You.“ he says and Dean lowers his gaze again, thinking about the words Castiel jsut said. „They feel I've begun to express emotions, the doorways to doubt. This can impair my judgment.“ he says as he turns slightly away from Dean._

_Dean is watching for a split of a second, his gaze hard. „Well, tell Uriel,“ he says, making his way in front of the door behind which Alastair is cuffed to the trap, „or whoever... you do not want me doing this, trust me.“_

_„Want it. No.“ Castiel says, looking away from Dean. „But I've been told we need it.“_

_„You ask me to open that door and walk through it...“ Dean tries to suppress the tears from terrible memories of him torturing souls back in Hell, „you will not like what walks back out.“_

_When Castiel speak, his eyes seem to be a bit watery too, only Dean doesn’t see it as he is still facing the door, backing Castiel. „For what it's worth...“ Castiel tries to keep his posture, „I would give anything not to have you do this.“_

_Dean only closes his eyes again, swallowing hard, trying not to let his weakness get visible._

********

 

             Castiel suddenly wakes up on soft knocking behind the door.

„Yes?“ he asks unsurely as he isn‘t sure who he should be expecting at this kind of hour.

When the all too familiar freckled face appeares in the door frame, Castiel suddenly remembers.

„Oh, Dean. You‘re already here? I didn‘t know it‘s already six.“

„Well, it‘s almost seven, doc,“ Dean smirks a bit. „Sorry I’m a bit late but I got a bit stucked in work.“

„Oh...“ Castiel sighs out, „that’s ok. Wait,“ he exclaims as he looks at the clock. „Almost seven you say? Ach!“ he sighs heavily. „I had to fell asleep.“

„Yeah, you... definitely look like you have done so.“ Dean smirks again gaining a bit confused look from Castisel. He walks towards the window behind which is already dark and so he can see his reflection in it. His tie is loosen up, shirt whole crinckled and his hair are sticking into impossible angles. Even his glasses are askew.

„I didn‘t know you wear glasses,“ he can hear Dean‘s voice form behind as he is putting them on the right spot.

„Yes well, not often,“ Castiel says as he is trying to win the battle against his not cooperating hair.

„It suits you though,“ Dean says quietly as Castiel turns to face him.

„Thank you,“ he says in respond, blushing slightly, as he fixes his shirt and a tie. „And I'm sorry for... this,“ he points on himself. „I've... I've been having some trouble sleeping lately and long hours in work don‘t seem to help.“

„Is it something serious?“ Dean asks concerned. „I mean, with the sleeping.“

„No, not really. Just some not very pleasent dreams.“

„Oh, I guess we have it similar then,“ Dean jokes away but is kind of taken aback by Castiel‘s quick and stiff response: „No, not at all. I can assure you there‘s no similarity between our conditions."

„Well, ok then,“ Dean frowns a bit and looks on the step ladder. „Well. Guess I should get started, unless we want to spend a night here.“

„Yes, sure.“ Castiel nods slightly. „Would you like something to drink?“

„I don‘t suppose you have beer in here?“ Dean says halfly hopeful.

„I’m afraid not.“ Castiel responds.

„Then I‘m good, thanks.“ Dean sends him a small smile and turns to work on the ladder.

It is not that much later as Dean is finished and turns to Castiel, who is sitting on the sofa, sipping from his coffee.

„No wonder you have trouble falling aasleep when you‘re drinking coffee at seven in the evening.“

Castiel puts the cup carefully down on the table and returns to his pisition on the sofa. „I have yet much work to do back at home. So I‘ll be staying up quite late tonight.“

„I see.“ Dean says as he turns to look at the step ladder once again. „Well, it should be good now. Let me try it.“

„Be careful,“ he hears Castiel calling behind him and he can‘t help but smile a bit at the sound of concern in Castiel‘s voice. Dean goes two steps up the ladder and nothing seems to be happening, so he sighs out a victorious sigh. 

„Since I‘m up here, do you want some book?“ he asks over his shoulder.

„No thank you.“ Castiel says from the sofa. „But you can take whichever you prefer.“

Dean plays with the thought a bit. Actually, he wasn‘t reading anything in a while and he kind of starts to miss it a bit. Plus now, when he can‘t seem to remember his dreams it seems he doesn‘t have even anything to think about. Well, except Sam. And that is one thing he wouldn‘t like to think about. So he searches the book shelves carefully, when the right one strikes his eyes. 

„Oh, why the hell not,“ Dean murmurs to himself and takes the book out, descending the ladder.

„May I see it?“ he hears quiet Castiel‘s question as his feet hit the ground softly.

„Sure, why not,“ Dean shrugs and walks towards the sofa, handing the book to Castiel.  
He turns it in his hand, carefully smooths it‘s cover as he smiles softly.

„Jung,“ he says softly as he looks up to meet Dean‘s eyes and hands him the book, little smile still apparent on his face, „It‘s a good choice.“

„There‘s someone I know who likes this dude so I thought I would check him out too, you know,“ Dean smirks and is pleased when Castiel‘s smile widens.

„Well, I hope you‘ll not be disappointed.“

„May I ask you a question?“ Dean suddenly ask, frowning a bit as he subconsciously falls down next to Castiel.

„Sure,“ Castiel nods almost not visibly as he lowers his eyes a bit.

„What is ehm, what is Rachel like?“

Castiel is quiet for a while, his eyes darken a bit, as they would reflect some kind of disappointment.

„Well she‘s, uh... She‘s determined in her work and a bit straightforward, but she‘s nice person I believe. I am sure she would very much like to go out with you, Dean.“

„What?“ Dean exclaims loudly. „No way! I mean, I didn‘t ask... Dude, juts, no... I have no interest in her, what so ever.“

„No? Then why you...?“ Castiel asks, his voice a bit suspicious and curious at the same time.

„It‘s just. She‘s giving me these weird looks like she was judging me or something, everytime I come. And I don‘t know why since I didn‘t remember doing or saying something bad to her. I mean. At least what know.“

„Oh,“ Castiel only says, lowering his gaze for a while.

„Oh?“ Dean raises his brows, scrutinizing Castiel‘s expression.

„I believe I know why is she doing it.“ Castiel returns to look at Dean, though his look is quite unsure.

„Yes?“ Dean encourages him.

„She thinks... I believe she thinks I‘ve gone too far with you. Too far from psychologist-client relationship.“ he falls silent for a while, lowering his eyes again. „She thinks I became to like you too much .... and ... and she‘s right.“

Dean can‘t stop himself from gasping a bit.

„I mean, of course there should be a proper relationship between psychologist and his client, but we‘ve become more. We‘ve become friends. And she thinks it may have endanger my judgment.“

„Sorry, you were saying?“ Dean frowns a bit. „You really mean it? The thing with friendship?“

„Of course I do,“ Castiel‘s look is now determined. „Why would you think otherwise?“ he frowns.

„It‘s just. I thought you were just saying it... so I would tell you what‘s wrong with Sam.“

„Of course not. Dean,“ Castiel subconsciously moves his hand towards Dean‘s and squeezes it softly, „you are my friend.“

Dean looks down to their joined hands and his heart fills with warm as he speaks. „I‘m sorry I‘ve ever doubted you. I‘ve just. It was always just me and Sammy and dad, then Bobby. We were moving too often to even start to look for a friends. I have... I have never had anyone besides family. I have never had any friend. Until now.“ he slowly looks up to meet with Castiel‘s eyes and he sees only devotion and frankness in them. „I have never been picked as the one, you know,“ Dean tries to huffs out the rest so his eyes would not fill with unwanted tears. „I‘ve been always like tenth choice or something like that.“

There is a moment of silence when Dean realise how comfortable he is now, with Castiel by his side, their hands joined together. He wouldn‘t trade this for a world.

„You know,“ Castiel says softly. „David Tennant was the tenth choice for the Doctor and everybody loved him.“ Castiel jokes away and when his eyes meet with Dean‘s, he can see the other man smiling again.

„You sneaky little bastard,“ Dean huffs out a laugh. „You are an inner nerd, aren‘t you?“

„I may have a guilty pleasure... ehm, discovered recently.“ Castiel says a bit sheepishly, but he turns into laughing as soon as he hears Dean‘s joyful laugh ringing in his ears.

„Ok than, you little geek. Time to go.“ Dean says as he stands up and softly pats Castiel on his shoulder. „You said you have yet work to do, so you better be going home.“

„Yes, right.“ Castiel nods and stands up also, taking the cup and the saucer to wash it. As he does so he turns off the lights and locks the door to his office, leaving with Dean to chilly spring night.

„Where‘s your car?“ Dean asks as they reach the sidewalk.

„Oh it, it went on strike again. It didn‘t wanted to start in the morning so I took a bus here.“

„Oh,“ Dean says silently. „Well, don‘t worry. I have my beauty in here, I can give you a lift.“

„I... That‘s not necessary, Dean.“ Castiel shifts his weight a bit.

„Hey,“ Dean stops to look at Castiel. „I insist.“

Castiel is looking at him for a long time and he finally nods in agreement.

„After all, that what‘s friends are for, aren‘t they?“ Dean smirks as he walks off to his beloved car.

Castiel smiles slightly too and follows his friend.

„Wow, is this yours?“ Castiel asks, his breath hitched, as they walk towards the '67 Chevrollete Impala and Dean ducks out his keys.

„Yep,“ Dean smirks proudly. „She was dad‘s ... Now she‘s mine.“

„It‘s... beautiful.“ Castiel awes and Dean can‘t help but smile even more. He is happy his friend likes his car.

„It‘s my baby,“ Dean smirks again and gets in the car. He waits for Castiel to do the same and as he does, he watches him to thoroughly scrutinize the interior of the car, similarly as he did with the book before. He rans his hand through the front board, feeling the surface and sniffing the air filled with old leather.

„It‘s amazing. It must worth a fortune.“ Castiel says finally.

„Yeah well I wouldn‘t trade her for anything in the world.“ Dean smiles again and ran a hand through the wheel. „Sure you have something like this too. Everybody does.“

„Something I wouldn‘t trade for a world?“ Castiel asks and Dean nods. He thinks for a while, slightly frowning and then shakes his head: „No I... I don‘t believe I do.“

Dean is about to express his disbelieve, when Castiel suddenly continues: „I have never had much as a child. There were too many of us to own something of my own. Plus, being the youngest one, it wasn’t really possible for me to have new and unused things.“

„But... you‘d weren‘t growing up in orphanage or something like that, were you?“ Dean asks not able to stop himself.

„No,“ Castiel replies softly. „My mom, she was a profesional parent.“

„What does that mean?“ Dean frowns.

„She took some kids so instead of growing up in orphanage they were growing up in the real family. Until someone adopted them. But... she was too kind and had too big heart. She loved those kids too much and she got too attached.“ he falls silent for a while as he turns his gaze away and looks out of the window into the night.

The rain just started to fall and little droplets of water were now hitting the windows of Impala, sound of them bumping into the window now ringing in both men ears. „She usually ended up adopted them.“

„So you‘re...“ Dean starts but is interrupted by Castiel who again turns his gaze back to him.

„No,“ he says. „Me and Anna, we were her biological children. My parents, they get married right after the school, but they just weren‘t very lucky at having children. As mom started to work as a profesional parent, there seemed to be no problems from the start. They had many children in the family and they loved them as theirs. But they have been adopted eventually. They have always left. It‘s the burden of every profesional parent. You need to always let go the ones you love. I guess it‘s the burden of us all.“ he again falls silent for a while and Dean can feel the bitternes of his words.

He would like to comfort Castiel, to tell him it’s okey, that everything will be alright again, but he just can’t find the words. They sit in the silent for a while, only the sound of rain sounding behind the window.

Dean is about to start the car, as he thinks Castiel is not going to continue anymore, when suddenly he speaks again: „There was this one boy, Michael. He was nice, healthy little boy... but he just somehow didn‘t have any luck in adoption. And when he was already six years old, well, not many parents want child this big. They usually want babies. So mom decided to adopt him herself, since they still weren‘t able to get their own child. And then, a year later mom got into guardianship this small afro American boy named Raphael. Somehow nobody wanted him too, so my mom took mery on him. He was two years old then. They were happy for a while, but mom still wanted a child of her own. And it still didn‘t work for her and... my dad. And then there was Gabriel.“ a little smile appears on Castiel’s face and his voice gets even softer.

„Nobody wanted him, not even the orphanage, because even as a baby he was quite a prankster. He always peed on the nurses when they were changing his diapers and he was always hiding in those most ridiculous places... and I‘m not mentioning the food wars.“ a little chuckle escapes his mouth and Dean can’t help but smile too.

„I guess that pranking stuck with him. He was one hell of a kid, but mum grew fond of him quite quickly.“ Dean sees the same spark in Castiel‘s eyes when he is talking about Gabriel as when he is talking about Sam and he smiles again. There is no doubt he liked Gabriel the most out of his brothers.

„And so it happened they adopted their third child.“ Castiel continues.

„And then, after ten years of marriage, out of nowhere, mum was pregnant. And nine months later Anna was born. Gabriel was already eight years old that time and Raphael was twelve, so she needn‘t to worry about them that much anymore. And Michael used to help her with taking care of her. They said she got after dad with that stubborn attitude. Well, I wouldn‘t know...“ he stops for a while, as he would think if he should continue or not.

Dean clears his throat and is about to say something, when Castiel speaks again: „And then year after Anna, mum got pregnant with me.“ after that he falls silence again and is again wathing little drops of rain on the front window.

„Gabriel always says I‘ve got my dark hair and a big blue eyes after her. He says even when I was born my eyes were so big a curious like I wanted to know everything right away. Guess some things just sticks with you all your life.“

„You all right?“ Dean asks quietly. Dean knows there were still things unxplained, but he also feels it was tough for Castiel to say to him what he already said. He sure didn’t expect him to open up now and so out of nowhere, but he was glad he did. He wanted to help him, and if just listening to what burdens him helps him, Dean was more than prepared to do it. 

„Yes,“ Castiel answers shortly. „I believe we should get going already... If I want to get my job done yet today.“

„Right,“ Dean nods slightly and turns on the engine.

The drive is pretty much silent, interrupted only by the directions Castiel is giving Dean. When they pull up in front of the building Castiel is living in, they stay sitting in the car yet for a while, contemplated in their mutual company.

„Thank you,“ Castiel says finaly, almost inaudibly.

„Don‘t mention it, Rose,“ Dean smirks slightly, feeling accomplished by the frown on Castiel‘s face.

„Why did you?“ he starts but Dean interferes: „You said I‘m the tenth. So... that makes you Rose Tyler.“ Dean chuckles a bit.

Castiel thinks about it for a while and then says with the serious face: „I do not wish to be Rose Tyler.... Because she and Doctor... they ended up separated.“

Dean is only blankly looking at the guy sitting next to him, unable to say a word. He just told him so much in one single sentence... just too much to go on with. Dean just doesn‘t know what to make out of it. He would like to crawl into Castiel‘s arms, because he pictures it must be the safest plafe in the world, he also wants to hug the man and let him go of all the bad and sad memories he has, he wants to kiss him and break that freaking tension between them, he wants to say to him how much he needs him, he... he just wants to do something, but he doesn‘t know what. Because he is new to this. He is knew to this feeling of complete trust and devotion to someone else then family.

„Good night, Dean,“ Castiel‘s voice torns Dean from his line of thoughts.

„Yeah, right. Ehm, good night, Cas.“ he sends him a small smile and can‘t stop the warm feeling spreading trough his stomach as Castiel smiles back.

This is trully quite new for Dean in so many ways. And he just doesn’t know what to do with all those emotions and feeling... and thoughts. Yeah, this will yet be a long road to finish line.


	9. It’s a Terrible Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly sorry for such a late update. I had loads of things to deal with in past few months and didn't have time to even properly react to e-mails of my amazing beta, ravenclxws, to whom I want to thank this way for dealing with my shit and still editing my chapters :)
> 
> Anway, I will post two chapters now, firstly, because ravenclxws in my time of absence from internet life edited already two chapters, and secondly, because if anyone is still reading this fanfic, you deserve it after such a long hiatus.
> 
> Chapter warnings: tense relationship, mentioning of drug use, alcohol as coping mechanism

_“As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light in the darkness of mere being.“_

C. G. Jung

 

          Dean walks into the dark room illuminated only by the light of full moon outside the window. He feels the strange rush of emotions in his body as he checks his watches once again and stands still, listening to anything what would indicate Sam’s return. It's something after midnight and the flat is dark and quiet. Dean glances to the door left ajar one last time, a big lump in his throat. He doesn't even want to imagine how Sam would react if he caught him in action. But Dean knows it's for the right reasons. He only wants to help his brother; he wouldn't do it either way.

Dean breathes in deeply and steps into his brother's room. He turns on the light and leave the door open so he would hear Sam if he comes home. He quickly scans the room and decides where he should start to search.

The wardrobe is probably the best choice, so he walks quickly to it and opens it. He tries to remember the exact way how Sam's clothes are put. He’s digging around Sam's clothes carefully but he can't find anything. He closes the drawers and decides to look into the little bedside table next to bed. He walks towards it, carefully opening it, but there is nothing but two books about law. Dean sighs out heavily and sits on the ground, leaning his back against the bed. It's hopeless. Sam isn't so dumb he would leave whatever he is taking in his room.

Dean is sitting there for quite a time, thinking about how he should approach Sam on this subject. It seems however, that whenever Dean brings out the subject they end up fighting. And he surely doesn't want to live through another fight.

As he is sitting there, self-loathing in his pity, he decides to at least look at the books in the drawer. He takes out one of the books in the bedside table and starts to browse. He doesn't even pay attention to what he is reading and even if he would, he probably wouldn't understand it. It‘s all about some laws and paragraphs and things which says nothing to him.

He only sighs heavily again and closes the book after a while. He is about to put it back into the drawer when he notices a peeking little box from under the second book. Dean stiffens and checks the door behind him.

They are still as he left them; also he hears no sound which would indicate Sam’s return.

Dean turns back to the bedside table and takes the second book out. He can clearly see the box now. It's the box of the pills of some sort. Dean heard about various products to help increase the productivity of person, so it is quite possible Sam would take it too. After all, as he has just seen, there is plenty of weird shit he needs to know for his school. But why wouldn't he tell him about it? Why would he hide it? What should be so wrong about few pills?

Dean is suddenly startled by the vibrating sensation in his pants. When he comes to his senses he fishes out his phone and checks the ID. As he thought, it's Castiel. Dean accepts the call and puts it to his ear.

“Hello Dean.” the voice sounds from the other side.

“Hey Cas,” Dean says a bit absent-mindedly as he is still looking at the box of pills.

“How did it go?” Castiel asks. “Did you find something?”

“Well yeah, I guess. I mean, I found these pills, but I'm not sure what they are for.”

“What are they? What the label says?” Castiel asks calmly.

“Uhm, it's... Ritalin,” Dean says and there is the silence on the other side. Dean's stomach clenches unpleasantly and his heart aches.

“What? What does it mean, Cas? Tell me.” Dean says desperately.

“Dean,” Castiel only says and Dean's stomach turns and twists. He feels it's something bad, he knows it, only from the sound of Castiel's voice saying his name.

“What… Cas? How... How bad is it?”

“Dean it's... It's worse than I thought.”

“Dammit,” Dean runs a hand through his face.

“I'll tell you everything on our morning session. It's... It's for longer conversation. Just, try to sleep on it.”

“Sleep on it?!” Dean snaps back. “How can I sleep when I have no freaking clue what is happening with my brother?” his voice breaks down.

“Dean just, just calm down.” Castiel tries to be as calm as possible.

“Calm... Calm down?” Dean laughs sarcastically. “Yeah right, like I could. Like I could even sleep now. Just fucking tell me what's wrong with him?”

“Dean.”

“Don't Dean me,” Dean snaps into the phone angrily and it is followed by heavy sigh on the other side of line.

“Meet me in my office in half an hour, Dean. We'll talk about it.”

Dean doesn't say anything, just blankly stares on the box of pills in his hand. He hears the quiet click and he is left all alone in the silent room in the middle of the night.

Dean parks Impala in front of dark empty building, turning the engine off and sighing heavily. He doesn't know what this conversation will be about, but he knows it will not be anything pleasant. Dean doesn't know and he isn't sure if he even wants to know. Either way, he doesn't really have any other choice.

He rubs his eyes, trying to get away the sleepiness. What time is it anyway? It must be something after two in the morning. He notices another car pulling off on the road behind him and he recognizes Castiel's blue Volkswagen Beetle. He gets out of Impala and waits for Castiel to do the same.

“Hello Dean,” Castiel says immediately as he closes the door.

“Hi, Cas,” Dean says in return, suddenly feeling a ball of guilt about dragging him here in the middle of the night. “Listen I'm... I'm sorry I have dragged you here. I was just.”

“That's ok, Dean,” Castiel interrupts him. “It is rather important anyway.”

“Yeah but you know, you could be doing much nicer things right now... Like sleeping for example,” Dean smirks slightly.

“I do not seem to sleep very much last few months so it doesn't really matter,” Castiel replies, averting his gaze a bit.

“Is everything ok?” Dean frowns, feeling of guilt in his abdomen being replaced by concern.

“Nothing I can't handle,” Castiel manages to make a little sad smile and tries to change topic back to Sam. “But there is something else we came here to talk about, not my sleeping problems.”

“Right,” Dean says, still a bit frowning.

 

          Dean enters the building following Castiel, the darkness and the silence reminding him what time it is and the unpleasant feeling clenches his stomach again, as he thinks they wouldn't be here right now if it weren't really serious. 

“Dean?” he can hear the familiar voice from afar. “Are you ok?”

Dean blinks and realizes he is still standing in the waiting room while Castiel is already in the office, standing next to the door and worriedly looking over him.

“Hey I'm... I'm good.” he lies. “Was just thinking about something.” he manages to do an easy going smirk, but it doesn't seem to persuade Castiel as it doesn't persuade him either.

“Let's do this, doc,” Dean says as he makes his way along Castiel to the office.

Dean sits down on his usual spot in front of the table, expecting Castiel would sit on his leather chair behind the table, but he is a bit taken aback when Castiel sits next to him, on the second dark blue armchair in front of the table. Dean suppresses the unpleasant feeling creeping into his mind again and swallows hard.

Castiel sighs heavily and starts with his usual calm voice: “Those pills your brother is taking... It's for the boosting up his memory and for giving him energy to study for a long period of time usually for quite late in the night. Such products are quite usual amongst university students in general."

“Okay,” Dean says, nodding slightly. “What is the big issue then? I mean, it doesn't sound that bad... Especially when other kids are using it too. Right?”

“I didn't say they are using these particular pills. I said they are using similar ones, some on natural basis, like gingko biloba or guarana, which are not that good either, but still a bit better than not so natural ones.”

“I bet this one would be the latter, wouldn't it?”

“Yes,” Castiel nods, lowering his gaze for a while and falling silence. Before he speaks again he sighs heavily and makes eye contact with Dean again: “These particular pills... Ritalin... these are used for patients cured for ADD, AD/HD or narcolepsy.”

“What's that?” Dean frowns.

“ADD is a short for attention deficit disorder, AD/HD is attention deficit hyperactivity disorder and narcolepsy is a sleep disorder when a person has an uncontrollable desire to sleep.”

“Okay. How this has anything to do with my little brother? I mean. He has none of these. Why would he be taking these pills?”

“Well, it is made of methylphenidate and it basically increases dopamine levels in the brain – and so the alertness and wakefulness of those taking them.”

“Okay. Where’s the catch?”

“Well .... How to put it ... methylphenidate is very similar in its structure to amphetamine. Amongst other stimulants which may be known to you is probably cocaine. One reason why methylphenidate is more popular amongst students is it is much cheaper than other two mentioned. And buying prescription-only drugs isn’t illegal, only supplying them is.”

“Wait a minute? Are you implying my brother is a junkie?”

“I’m not saying that. I’m just... Look, Dean. It is very dangerous substance. It may help Sam, I’m not saying it can’t. But if he would take more than he should, if he would eventually become addicted to it or overdose,“ there is a long pause where Dean can literally feel his heart beat and he hates every second of it, because he knows what Castiel is about to say, „it may eventually become fatal.“

There’s another pause. Dean is at loss of words. He can’t even imagine what it would be if he lose the only constant in his life, the only human being he is supposed to watch over, to protect. He can’t. He can’t let it end like this. He can’t fail.

“What am I suppose to do?” he asks, hardly finding his voice.

“I... I don’t want to scare you, Dean. It may be nothing. But, just to be sure. I would like to talk to Sam.”

“Well,” Dean huffs out nervous laugh. “I don’t think he would agree on this. I... we always end up fighting when I bring this up even remotely. He won’t come if he’ll know you want to talk to him about this.”

“Right,” Castiel frowns and there is silence again as he is thinking hard for a while. Then he looks up to meet Dean’s stare again and says. “I think I have a plan.”

 

*********

 

          Castiel lifts his gaze from the papers as the door slowly opens, a hesitant enormous figure revealing behind them.

“Good afternoon, Sam,” Castiel says standing up, smiling slightly. He indicates Sam to sit down against him by showing him the arm-chair seated at the table. 

“Ehm, hi doctor... uhm, doctor Collins.” Sam gets out of himself, not even sure how to approach the man.

“Please, call me Castiel.”

“Ok then.” Sam says as he makes his way towards the arm-chair and sitting down.

“Uhm, you have it quite nice in here... Castiel.”

“Thank you. I appreciate you have come.”

“Uhm, not a problem, I guess. I mean, Dean said you want to talk with me about him. Is everything ok with him? I mean, he seems he is getting better since he is coming here. I just hope there are no complications.”

“No. You don't need to worry, Sam. Dean is practically fine. We still have quite a bit to work on, but I think we are on good way.”

“So, why did you want to see me?”

“You need to understand, Sam, that what Dean went through few months ago and what he still is occasionally going through is not an easy thing.”

“I know.”

“And it affects not only him, but also the people around him, people close to him.”

“Yeah? And?”

“And I want to know how are you coping with Dean's state? How are you feeling about it? I mean, you have got your school postponed to help him during those few months; you have spent quite a lot of time with him. How, how do you feel about it?”

“Well, honestly, it is much better than it was. I don't know what happened, but since he started seeing you, I think it got better. It still is pretty rough from time to time frankly, but... I think there is a major improvement. I think... I think you helped him much, Cas. And I'm thankful for that. You know, it wasn't easy with him. It still isn't. I mean, it's Dean. He don't do chick flick moments, so yeah, I was pretty surprised when he agreed to visit you. First it seemed like he will give up after first session. I don't know what you say to him, but he came back totally shaken. But still, he came back. And for that I am thankful. He doesn't talk about it much, neither sessions nor his dreams. I don't know if he talks about it with you or whatever else are you two doing here, but it seems he is improving and that's a good thing.”

“Yes, he is. And I want to thank you too for bringing him here. I... I don't even want to imagine how he would end up if he didn't come. But still. You're talking only about Dean. I can see your reciprocal brother love is deep and pure. You two really care for each other and would do anything for the other. But now I'd like to talk about you Sam, not about Dean. How were you feeling when you had to move in with him and you were put face to face with his nightmares?”

Sam sighs heavily. “I don't know what you want to hear. Sure I wanted to help my brother. I mean, he was taking care of me for my whole life. But, I had a life of my own and I needed to make sacrifices and of course I didn't like that, but I did it for Dean and I would never change my mind if I was put through the same decision again.”

“That's admirable, Sam. Now, when you speak about sacrifices, what exactly do you mean?”

“Well,” Sam chuckles, "Dean is not exactly world's best roommate, maybe you've catch that during those few visits at our apartment.”

Castiel turns a bit red and lowers his gaze, not saying anything. When he puts it like this, it really sounds weird and not quite professional either.

“Well anyway, the biggest sacrifice for me was postponing and changing my school. I mean Lawrence law school isn’t exactly Stanford. But I guess I’ll be happy when I’ll get my degree.”

“How long did you take the time off?”

“One term only. But on law it’s like three terms.”

“I see. But from what I've understand you are studying again, aren't you?”

“Yes, I do. Actually, I am doing like two terms together now. I am catching up on what I've missed the previous term so I have quite much on my plate right now. Plus, I have also finals at the end of this term so I can work my ass off to make up for what I missed.”

“That must be quite difficult.”

“Well, it's not particularly easy.”

“How are you holding on?”

“Uhm. Well, I'm trying to do my best, you know. Staying up late and waking up early to study. I have this huge help from my class-mate Ruby.”

“Yes, Dean mentioned her.”

“Did he?” Sam's voice becomes defensive suddenly. “What... What did he say about her?”

“Nothing particular. He just mentioned you know her and... it seems he doesn't like her very much.”

“Yeah, that's totally him. You know, he may be so close-minded sometimes. I mean I've known Ruby back at Stanford and he always thought she just wanted to use me or something for her own agendas. Though, he never really even tried to get to know her. He just can't understand not everyone wants to get piece of you. You know, he grew so desperately untrusting of anyone at all. He literally lost his faith in humanity. Honestly, I am quite surprised he endures to go on these sessions of yours for so long. I think, I think you bring up something good in him. Maybe just a tiny bit of faith, that there still exist people willing to help others and are not wrapped up into their own well-being.”

“Well, I really do appreciate your opinion, Sam, but again you have turned the conversation to Dean. Why do you think Dean thinks Ruby don't want to help you unconditionally?”

“I don't know. He just doesn't like her? He thinks she got between us? I don't know. He's just pissed with the world and he needs to find someone to vent it on?”

“I meant more like is there any behavior she ever showed that would convince him to do so?”

“Why are we talking about Ruby here, huh? I thought this should be about me, shouldn't it? Wait a minute... What else did Dean tell you about her?”

Castiel sighs desperately overthinking his options. “Look, Sam,” he says finally. “We know Ruby is helping you with your studies in some unorthodox ways.”

“You do? How?”

“That's not really important.”

“It isn't? Well I guess our opinions parts here. I don't know what Dean told you about Ruby or how she is supposedly making me her bitch, but nothing of it is true.”

“Sam, we only want you to be safe. I understand you are coming through the difficult times, but please, be careful with your decisions. I wouldn't like to see you creating some addiction or something. It may be extremely dangerous.”

“Yeah, you know what?” Sam says standing up. “I don't care what you want or not. It's my life and I can do whatever I want to do with it. And since you have so great and open relationship with my brother, you can give him a message from me. Tell him to piss off.”

“Sam,” Castiel exclaims but Sam is already out of the door, disappearing from his sight.

 

*********  


          Dean pulls off the Impala at the side of sidewalk, turning the engine off. He sighs heavily and looks down at his phone. He had quite tough day at work, so he's not really in the fighting mood, but he would rather fight than know nothing about his brother. He decides to dial his phone number again, but is rejected right away... again. So he decides to get out of the car and towards the familiar building.

“You're not appointment, Mr. Winchester.” Rachel says immediately as she sees his from behind her desk, coming towards her.

“I know. I just. I really need to talk to Ca... Doctor Collins.” he won't give her more reasons to glare at him, that's what he is sure of.

“He has much work. He doesn't have time.”

“It is rather important.”

“In that case you are free to make an appointment, Mr.” she says dryly.

“Ok. You know what? Let's make him decide that for himself, ok?” Dean says as he turns around to aim for the door.

“Wait you can't just...” Rachel says, but Dean ignores her successfully, as he knocks twice on the door and opens it.

Castiel’s head peeks up from the papers, surprised by seeing Dean at the door.

“Dean, what's… what's happening? Is something wrong?”

“I need to talk to you, Cas.” Dean says and is immediately followed by Rachel’s voice, as she suddenly appears behind him. “I told you, you can't just march in here like it would be yours. Doctor Collins has much work. Make an appointment, Mr. Winchester.”

“Rachel,” Castiel interrupts her as he stands from his table a makes few steps across the office to the door. “That's ok. I think I can spare few minutes for my frie... uhm, client here.”  
Rachel only glares at Dean, not speaking a word, as she shuts the door, disappearing behind them. 

“So, what's happening, Dean?” Castiel asks a bit concerned.

“I just. I'm sorry I'm bothering you. You just haven't been answering your phone and I...”

“Oh right. Uhm, sorry about that. My battery died and I'm afraid I left my recharger in home.”

“Sure. Well, not a big deal, is it?”

“Dean, what's happening?”

“I need to know how it went with Sam this morning. I mean, he's not home and I've been trying to get him to the phone all day but he is persistently rejecting my calls. Was... was everything alright, when he left?”

Castiel sighs heavily as he leans against the table, facing Dean, standing few feet from him. 

“I've tried to be subtle Dean, but eventually he figured out what my intentions were and well, he wasn't particularly happy about me and you involving in this. He was actually very explicit about the fact we should drop this off.”

He pauses for a bit, concerned silence filling the room. “Listen Dean, does he have these mood swings often these days? I mean, he seemed fine, we talked and stuff and then, when I brought up the subject of school and Ruby, then he was like he clicked and changed into someone else.”

“Well, now when I think about it, yeah, he does seem to change his mood pretty often lately.”

“What else? Did you notice any other changes in his behavior?”

“Well, he got a bit more anxious than usual I guess. I mean, he was always this emotional kind of guy, but lately he looks and acts kind of stressed out and strained. Why? Is there something wrong?”

“Well, I’m not sure. It may be just stress from the school. It may be also some kind of side effects of Ritalin. I think you don't need to worry.”

“Huh, yeah right. I won't worry about my pills addicted little bro.”

“Dean. You know I didn't mean it like that. But a fact is that those pills by itself are not that dangerous, unless you overdose or mix them with alcohol or something. And I can assure you Sam is smart enough not to do any of these.”

“Yeah, cause you know him so well,” Dean bursts out sharply, feeling of regret following right after.

“Dean,” Castiel walks towards him, putting a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Look at me,” he demands and Dean immediately obeys. “Sam is intelligent young man and he loves you deeply. He would never do anything what would end in letting you down, at least not intentionally. I can assure you he will be fine. You'll see.”

“Yeah that's easy to say for you. It's not your brother who's in trouble. I just. I wish he would ditch Ruby and everything would be back in normal. She's poisoning him, man.”

“Right, Ruby. Are you sure she is the core of Sam's problems?”

“What?” Dean says a bit exasperated.

“I mean, Sam was getting through tough times when you had your nightmares about hell. He needed to handle too many things at the same time. If Ruby didn't show up, maybe he would find some other way to handle things like they needed to be handled. And maybe that way would be even worse.”

“Whoa! Wait right there. What are you saying? That, that Ruby is actually a good influence on Sam? Or that maybe I am responsible for his state after all?”

“That's not what I said, Dean.”

“Oh don't go on me with those shrink phrases of yours. Right, so all of you think is that it’s my fault, yeah? Great, it's really great to know what you think. Thanks much. Such a support. I would never expect that. I guess Sam is right. I am only pathetic emotional wreck. Why would anybody want to waste a time with me, right? Yeah, you know what? I'll spare you the hard time. I'm leaving.”

“Dean wait!” Castiel reaches for his hand but Dean is already gone.

What’s with Winchesters and dramatic leavings today? – Castiel thinks for himself, sighing heavily.

 

*********

 

          Dean feels pretty bad the rest of the say. He feels bad about Castiel and things he said to him, about losing his nerves and most importantly, he feels bad about Sam. He didn't yet come home and he still isn't reacting to his phone calls. Dean doesn't even know where he would go to search for him, so he settles for staying at home, self loathing himself with the beer on the couch.

 

*********

 

          Next Tuesday Dean is standing in front of the door to Castiel's office, prepared for coming in. He hasn't seen nor spoken to Castiel since that incident with Sam, but he is pretty damn sure Castiel didn't forget about it. He just hopes he will not act like nothing happened. He needs to apologize, he needs to get it out of his system.

“Hey,” Dean says weakly as he walks into the office.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel responds, his tired soft eyes landing on him briefly. “Please, sit.”

Dean does so and sinks into the leather arm chair in front of Castiel. He seems to scrutinize him, his gaze roaming all over his face for quite a while. And Dean doesn't say anything. He's staring right back, contemplated in the moment. He should say something, he should apologize. He just doesn't know how to start. Well, what about with “Sorry”?

“Look Cas,” he says finally after an initial sigh, “to the last week. I'm sorry about the whole thing. I... I was mean to you... again. I... I didn't mean to scream. I just. I was so ... I don't even know what I was exactly. All these mixed emotions were just boiling in and it came out... badly.”

“That's ok, Dean. It's better to ventilate your anger than let it build in inside.”

“How... How you do it?”

“Do what?”

“How do you keep yourself so calm all the time? I mean, you never lost your nerves?”

“I can't exactly yell at my clients, Dean. That wouldn't really help anything, I guess. Unless we would be doing some modeling situations and it would require such an action, perhaps.”

“Yeah, I guess you have a point, but still, what you're doing to keep yourself so well-balanced. I mean, after listening to people's problems all day long, don't you need someone to talk about it? Someone to listen to your problems?”

“You mean like if I have a therapist of my own?”

“Well, yeah? I guess.”

“Sometimes I talk to Gabriel. But mostly, I run.”

“Oh,” Dean's imagination goes off.

He pictures Castiel in tight shorts and sweaty t-shirt, plastered to his leaned muscled chest, as he runs with the wind, light like a feather, he's almost flying, the wind ruffles his hair and the little spots of sweat runs down his brow down his face to his wide jaw, and yet further down his neck through his Adam's apple and hiding behind the hem of his soaked t-shirt. His feet are hitting the ground and tight muscles are moving in unison.

Dean snaps himself mentally, cursing his thoughts again. He thought he was beyond this “weird sexual thoughts about Castiel” state. But it caught up with him again. Dean tries to repress them further to his subconscious mind and after clearing his throat he stutters:

“Ehm, that's uhm..... Awesome!”

“So, how is Sam doing?” Castiel asks, changing the subject, for what Dean is silently very thankful.

“Frankly? I don’t really know. He seems to be pretty determined to avoiding me since he spoke to you. I... I don’t know what to do. I mean, I know he comes home sometimes, because there are always some stuff put here or there, but he is never there when I am. I think he just don’t want to talk to me.”

“I am truly sorry about this, Dean. I didn’t picture it would go like this, really.”

“Yeah well, you shouldn’t know. And... you tried to help. And for that I am thankful.”

“I was happy to help. I just wish it would have been at better cause.”

“Well, maybe, maybe all of this, maybe it tries to tell me something.”

“Like what?”

“Well, my dreams lately, it seems like they are suddenly settled in some kind of alternate universe or something. I am some kind of CEO and I am leading pretty normal life, well, at least normal in the scale of my dream self. I seem to know nothing about this ghostly stuff and even Sam isn’t my brother. He is just some guy on help desk working in the same building. I... I don’t know what it is but it feels so, so different, but not exactly that bad.”

“What do you think it is telling you?”

“That maybe... maybe I should move on? Maybe I should let Sam be, not watching over him, not overprotecting him so much? Maybe... to let him live his own life and to care more about myself than him?”

“Do you really feel it that way?”

“I don’t know. Right now, right now I don’t know anything. I think I need to give it a bit of time.”

Castiel only nods understandably. Suddenly the silence of the room is pierced by the sound of the telecom.

“Doctor Collins? I’m sorry to interrupt but Doctor Adler is here.”

Castiel frowns, confused, and looks at Dean.

“I’m sorry Dean but, would you mind if we cut our session a bit short today? I... I’m afraid this won’t wait.”

“Uhm, sure, I guess. Well then,” Dean says as he stands from the chair, “guess to see you next week?”

“Sure,” Castiel tries to send him a reassuring smile, but he is too confused, too misled right now to really success in anything remotely close to the smile.

 

As Dean is leaving the office feeling almost a bit sad and cheated that the time that was strictly his and Castiel’s was cut short, he walks towards the office door opening them and seeing an older man in nice suite with receding hair and piercing cold eyes gazing up to him shortly as he turns his look away talking with someone on the phone. His gaze isn’t long, but it leaves Dean strangely unwelcome and stripped to the bone, as if the man in the corner knew him all too well and judged him completely by that one look. Dean nods to Rachel almost unnoticeable as he walks away, thinking about the option that all doctors shares the information about their clients and if everything he tells Castiel is for anyone else to see. He feels very much naked right now, this feeling only to be changed for confusion and anxiety, as he hears the last words the man says to his phone as Dean is walking out of the room. “Yes, Ruby, I understand. See you later.”

And then the man hangs up his phone and walks into the Castiel’s office. Dean can still hear muffled. “Good morning, doctor Collins. I am sorry I came so unexpectedly and so abruptly, but...” the rest is cut off by the closing of the door. Dean realizes suddenly he stands still in the middle of the doorway on his way out, slightly turned to the door to Castiel’s office. Rachel is peering at him from behind her desk, her gaze unwelcoming.

“Is there a problem, Mr. Winchester?” she asks coldly.

“Uhm, what?” Dean snaps back to reality. “Urgh, no, not really. I’ve just. I’ve just remembered something. Uhm, it’s nothing... nothing important. Uhm, bye.”

 

*********

 

            Ok, so it may or may have not been THAT Ruby. Ruby is not that uncommon name after all, is it? Then again, how many Ruby’s does Dean know? That’s right... one. Well, it still doesn’t mean it was her that Doctor Adler was talking too. It may have been just coincidence. But, he can’t be sure, really. Maybe he should call Castiel. He should know better. But he already feels like he is using him for his own needs quite often. Sure they are friends and stuff, but still Dean doesn’t feel quite comfortable calling his psychologist/friend to talk about such banalities. Well, if it is THAT Ruby, then it probably isn’t just banality, but still. But then again, she needs to have those pills from somewhere and Castiel said the pills are used to cure some diseases, so logically, they would be prescribed ones. Therefore, Ruby needs someone to prescribe it for her so she can distribute them further. And who would be better than doctor of psychology? Yeah, this seems like a pretty big coincidence for Dean.

 

*********

 

          Dean keeps it ringing few times until the busy tone doesn’t sound again. Great, so Sam is still determined not to talk to him. Well, he can at least leave him a message if he comes home. Because though Dean isn’t sure about many things right now, he knows one thing for sure. What he needs right now is a good drink... or drinks.

 

*********

 

          Dean isn't sure what time has passed or how many beers or whatever else he already had. He isn't sure about anything right now. So he does what he knows best... drinks to forget.

As he is sipping from his who knows which beer he scans the bar for the possible hook up. After all, why not? Last time he had sex was with that, Cassie, Casey chick? He doesn't even remember her name anymore. But what he remembers is the conversation after. And he shivers.

The thought of wanting to be with Castiel instead of her was absurd for him at first. But then again... Dean suppresses the thought as a heat of the moment. It has passed. And it won't happen again. Unless, it already happened – this afternoon. Dean squashes it as a weak moment. But something in the back of his mind is telling him otherwise.

He gulps his beer down and then his gaze fixes, his eyes hardening.

“Really? You? Now that’s just my luck,” Ruby sighs heavily as Dean approaches her.

“Where is my brother?” Dean asks not wasting any time.

“Who says he is here? He’s not my tale, he won’t follow me everywhere.”

“Yeah? So why you have two beers in your hands?”

“Maybe I’m that thirsty? And maybe I just need to get wasted to forget about your face, jerk.”

Dean is about to say something when another voice sounds near him.

“Dean? What’s going on? I’ve got your message.”

Dean turns and sees staggered Castiel standing behind him.

“Cas?” he breathes out. He vaguely remembers sending him any message. He was considering it, sure, but did he really send it?

“Well and who is this lover boy?” Ruby asks sing-songly.

“What?” Dean turns back to her. “That’s, that’s not...” but before he can finish whatever he was about to say Sam appears behind Ruby.

“What are you doing here, Dean?” he asks angrily.

“Sam? Sam look. I need to talk to you.”

“No, Dean. I don’t... wait. Were you... were you following us?”

“What? No... Of course not. Why would you think that?”

“I don’t know. From all the bars in the town we bump right into you in this one. And miraculously Castiel is here with you too.”

“Sam, this is misunderstanding,” Castiel tries to join but Sam has no desire to continue the conversation.

“You know what?” he says. “I don’t care anymore. Just... leave me alone. Both of you.”

The look he sends to Dean makes even Castiel shivers. It’s cold and hard, like he would look on complete stranger. Dean tries to stop him as he extends his hand to grab his arm, but Sam pulls away and leaves without a word, Ruby silently following him out of the bar.

“Dammit!” Dean curses as he’s watching his brother walks away from him once again.

Castiel tries to be comforting, he wants to be, but he has no clue why Dean even called him here. Truthfully, he doesn’t even know what is he doing here and why did he came.

When he got the text he was just about to go for a dinner with Gabriel. But as he was looking on the screen, he hadn’t had that heart not to come. It said simply: “I need to talk to you! Urgently. Meet me in Roadhouse... Please.”

Maybe it was that one word – please – but more Castiel was looking at the screen, more he had the urge to obey and come. And so he did. After all, Dean was his friend and obviously, he needed him now. Though he still wasn’t quite sure why.

Castiel called Gabriel and apologized for cancelling their dinner, rescheduling it for tomorrow. He definitely wasn’t looking forward to explaining it to Gabriel, because he couldn’t lie to him. Gabriel always saw right through him. He would know Castiel would lie if he tried to make up some lame excuse. And Castiel knew he will yet suffer enormously as he will be forced to listen to Gabriel’s ambiguous innuendoes all night long. But he regrets nothing.

 

Dean meanwhile manages to order two beers and double whisky and he is going to sit down to one of the booths in the corner. It’s only about half past nine, but the bar is awfully empty. It seems like business is not going well for the owners nowadays.

Dean slides down the booth helplessly, fixing his tired and somewhat already drunk gaze on the table. Castiel follows him silently and sits opposite from him, not saying a word. They sit like this until young blonde waitress doesn’t bring them their beers and Dean’s whisky.

Dean doesn’t even bother to look away from the table so Castiel does at least a silent nod with a slight smile to indicate they appreciate her effort.

Dean immediately drains whisky and rinses it down with beer. Castiel only eyes him carefully, still silently, not even touching the beer Dean ordered for him. After a while Dean’s gaze lifts up a bit and he smirks somewhat sarcastically.

“Nice sweater, Cas. I didn’t know you are such a fashion geek.”

Castiel eyes himself and it is then when he remembers what he’s wearing. He has the pale silver sweater with howling furry wolf – the sweater itself is quite nice actually, it just isn’t Castiel’s usual style.

“Oh, this,” he says. “It... It was a gift from my brother... Gabriel,” he specifies – as if it wasn’t quite clear even without it. “He... he enjoys giving me and Anna the most ridiculous sweaters for Christmas... This one is actually quite fine yet. I... I was supposed to go for a dinner with him tonight so I put it on.”

“Oh,” Dean looks up. “You... you shouldn’t have ditched him for me. You... you should have gone.”

“No,” Castiel says a bit quietly but resolutely. “You... you needed me... So here I am.”

Dean meets his eyes for a while, Castiel seeing in them something he cannot quite decipher, but then Dean looks away again and he doesn’t have a chance to get the grip on it.

“But I believe you didn’t want to talk about my fashion choices.”

“No I,” Dean starts, gulping from his beer again. “I don’t even know why I have texted you. I mean. I’m not even sure about this. It is probably nothing. I’m just... I’m just paranoid, that would be all.”

“I’m sure you had your reasons, Dean. And yet, here I am, so you can at least tell me what you intended to. I can only assume it has something to do with Sam, but, I don’t even know what just happened before a while so... why don’t you start from the beginning?”

Dean sighs heavily and finishes his beer. “Ok then. So... today, when I was leaving your office, there was that old guy in there...”

“Doctor Adler.”

“Yeah, him. Well and... I heard him on the phone. I mean, I don’t know what he was talking about, but I heard a name. And... no, this is stupid.”

“Dean, nothing of this is stupid. I’m here for you, you know that.”

“I... yes... thanks, Cas.” he mumbles almost inaudibly. He falls silent then, hypnotizing his beer label on already empty bottle. He looks towards Castiel’s and sees he didn’t even touch his beer.

“You... won’t drink it?” he asks as he’s looking over Castiel’s bottle.

Castiel looks down on it and then back at Dean. He shouldn’t do it. Dean is already pretty much inebriated, but he is not going to drink it anyway, so he only slides it towards him and says, “Suit yourself.”

Dean thankfully takes the beer and gulps almost half of it. Castiel‘s only eyeing him worriedly, but not saying a word. After a while a bartender comes again taking one empty bottle and asking them if they need anything else. Castiel politely says they are good and is thankful Dean isn’t about to drink anymore either.

“So what name did you hear?” Castiel asks as waitress moves away to other customers.

“I... I heard he said Ruby,” Dean finally says. “I mean, I don’t know if it is that Ruby, but still, how much of coincidence is that? I mean- she needs to have those pills from somewhere, isn’t she? But that’s probably just my paranoia. I mean- you said it is used for treating children, isn’t it?”

“Mostly, yes. But there are some cases when AD/HD isn’t treated because it isn’t found during the childhood. It may not be so visible, it may be just mild form and therefore parents and teachers will overlook it. But yet, it can still be treated later, in adulthood, mostly with the same medication. Ritalin being the most common one.”

“So, can we get her? You know, like... you did say supplying prescription only drugs are illegal aren’t they?”

“Yes, it is. I don’t suppose Doctor Adler knows about this, he is the head of Psychological Association in here, so I don’t think he would be involved into such actions. But it is possible Ruby is his patient and he is prescribing her Ritalin, which she’s using to give to Sam. We can’t be 100% sure, but I’ll talk to Gabriel tomorrow and I’ll see what I’ll learn. Don’t worry, Dean, I’ll look on it.”

“Really?” Dean asks, his voice hopeful.

“Sure.” Castiel smiles weakly.

Dean is holding his gaze for a while, trying to comprehend something. “Thank you,” he says finally and looks away.

“You’re... you’re welcome.” Castiel responds silently and he eyes the bar. There seem to be even less people then before though it’s just about eleven o’clock. Well, his duty probably ends here.

“Let’s go then.” he says as he stands up from the booth. “You need to go to work tomorrow; therefore you need to get some sleep.”

Dean seems a bit reluctant to go but he obeys finally and stands up, feeling a bit dizzy.

“You ok?” Castiel asks, furrowing his brows.

“Sure,” Dean gives him his fake self-confident grin which Castiel doesn’t like even a little.

Every time he sees it he knows Dean just tries to hide his low self-esteem, his fear and his problems. He tries to hide behind this smirk to show people how OK he is, but Castiel knows better. He knows nothing is OK with him right now and it won’t be probably the long time yet. But he can’t do anything to change that. Not now anyway. All he can do for Dean is to take him home and that he is going to do.

Castiel sends Dean to the car and pays the bill. He is amazed when he sees how much alcohol Dean had and he is frankly surprised he is still standing. Apparently he has resilience against it. But still, he won’t let him drive.

“What are you thinking you’re doing?” Castiel asks him as he walks out of bar and sees Dean trying to get into Impala.

“What?” Dean turns to him, leaning against car door. “I’m going home. To sleep this off.”

“Sure, but not by yourself.”

“I can handle this.”

“No you can’t. You’re going with me. I’ll drive you.”

“I won’t let you drive my Baby. I’m sorry, but that’s just not... just don’t.”

“It’s ok. I was thinking about my car. You can come for Impala tomorrow, when you will be sober.”

“What?” Dean laughs. “That little blue box? I don’t even pack myself in there.”

Castiel leans in and takes the keys from Impala into his hands. “Don’t you worry,” he smiles slightly, “it’s bigger on inside.”

Dean eyes him briefly and then he breaks into a heartfelt laugh. “You didn’t.”

“Oh I did,” Castiel smiles and helps Dean to walk towards his car.

Dean is still chuckling slightly as he is getting into the car. He leans his head against the head rest and closes his eyes. He hears Castiel opening the door on the driver side and getting in.

“You ok?” he hears his voice.

“Yeah. I’m peachy.” Dean smirks, eyes still closed.

“You’re not going to puke or something, are you?”

“Nah, don’t you worry,” Dean opens his eyes and turns his head so he can see Castiel, “I have pretty good self-control.”

“Right,” Castiel nods, “so you have.”

He starts the car and pulls off to the road, driving silently. The road is remarkably empty for the eleven hour, but then again it’s Tuesday evening so everyone is probably home already.

“You know what?” Dean suddenly says, his head again slightly turned to see Castiel’s profile, resting on the head rest.

“What is it?” Castiel asks not turning his gaze from the road – even though it’s half empty.

“I didn’t notice it before, but this car totally suits you.”

“Really?” Castiel raises his eyebrows. “How?”

“Well, it’s cute,” Dean giggles, “and it’s bright blue, like your eyes.”

“Uhm, thank you? I guess.” Castiel shrugs slightly, a little red color creeping to his cheeks.

“You know I’ve never told you, but your eyes, they’re so beautiful.”

“Uhm...” Castiel is about to say something, though he doesn’t know what exactly, but Dean apparently didn’t end yet.

“It’s the bluest blue I’ve ever blued.”

“You mean seen.”

“What?”

“You wanted to say ‘I’ve ever seen.’.”

Dean furrows his brows slightly, thinking about it, than saying: “Nope. I’ve ever blued. That makes perfect sense. Because they’re so freaking blue.”

“Well, thank you, Dean. In the case I will forget the color of my eyes I’ll think about this.”

“But that’s not all.” Dean giggles again.

“Okay,” Castiel says a bit unsure, glancing for a while on Dean. He is grinning like a little child on his school crush and Castiel’s blush deepens. He clears his throat and looks back to the road.

“They are so deep, like they had already seen so many things. And they seem so...wise. Sometimes, when you’re looking at me, I feel like you were looking not at me, but inside me. Like you could see right into my soul. And it freaking scares me sometimes, because that mustn’t be very nice sight.”

“What are you talking about?” Castiel frowns and looks in Dean’s eyes. There is a red on the traffic light either way, so he can allow himself to do it. “You’re soul is beautiful Dean.”

“You can really see it?” Dean’s eyes widen.

“No, of course not,” Castiel laughs shortly as he pictures what it would be like if he could, “but I can see you have beautiful eyes yourself. And eyes are the mirror of the soul.”

“I do?” Dean asks like he wouldn’t even know how his eyes look like.

“Yes. In fact, it’s the most beautiful eyes I have ever seen. And I must tell you Gabe has pretty astonishing eyes too,” he smiles as he sees Dean laughs.

“So, what makes mine so special?” he asks then.

Castiel is forced to look away as the light on the traffic light changes and he needs to move, but he is quite thankful for that as he also feels a bit intimated looking too long into those green eyes.

“I don’t know,” he murmurs. “it just, you know. I can see it in them. The way they shine and soften when you’re talking about your brother. The way you look at him and I can see how much you love him. It’s just, you can’t have an ugly soul when you care so much about others. I’m sure if I was able to see it, it would be the most beautiful soul that exists. And they have this perfect calming effect,” he smiles slightly. “You know, the green color calms you down. And well, you’re eyes are quite extraordinary green. Like a wide green would in the early sunrise.”

Dean‘s only silently eyeing Castiel and Castiel isn’t sure if he‘s even taking in what is he saying, but maybe that’s for the best. Maybe it would be better if Dean wouldn’t remember what they are talking about here. After all, when he looks at it now, it is a bit strange conversation.

“Well, here we are,” Castiel says as he parks the car in front of Dean’s prefab.

“Oh,” Dean says as he looks out of window. “That was fast.”

Castiel is thinking if he should help Dean into the apartment but when he sees how he’s struggling with getting out of the car, he decides.

“Where are your keys?” Castiel asks him when they finally reach the door, Dean leaning against him for support.

“You took them, don’t you remember?” Dean smirks and leans his head closer to Castiel putting it on his shoulder.

“Dean?” Castiel stiffens a bit as he tries to unlock the door. “What are you doing?”

“Hmm,” Dean puts almost all his weight on Castiel. “You smell good,” he says as he nuzzles into the crook of Castiel’s neck.

“Ok, time for bed,” Castiel says strictly as he opens the door.

Apartment is dark and silent. Sam isn’t probably home yet. And Castiel is quite thankful for that anyway. He wouldn’t like to run into him right now.

“I know what it is,” Dean says half sleepily as they are making their way towards Dean’s bedroom.

“What is what?” Castiel frowns.

“That smell.” Dean smirks again. “You smell like vanilla and little fluffy puppies.... It’s good.”

“Ok Dean, you apparently don’t know what you’re saying. Here, this is your bedroom, right? Let’s get you to bed.”

He takes him to bed and lies him down. Dean is gripping him tight, as he would be afraid to let go at some point.

“Dean,” Castiel says softly. “I need to go.”

Dean lets his hands wrapped around Castiel’s neck for a little longer, gazing into his eyes. Then he huffs out a long heart full laugh.

“What is it again?” Castiel frowns.

“Your eyes.” Dean says between laughs. “There’s a fucking galaxy in them.”

“What?”

“There are those little lights in your eyes, such a miniature sparkles. And it looks like a fucking galaxy... It’s... it’s breathtaking.”

“Ok, Dean. You need to sleep this off.”

“Will you stay with me? You could make me that banana shake of yours in the morning.” Dean smirks again.

“I... I can’t.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Dean asks, his eyes already half closed.

Castiel is standing over him, watching him for a while.

Dean breathes effortlessly, his chest lifting and getting down in symmetrical periods. He seems so calm and relaxed.

“Can’t..... I’m sorry.”


	10. What Is and What Should Never Be

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter warnings: mention of drug use, hypnosis (? I don't know, it might be a trigger for someone)
> 
> And as I am reading through it real quick I want to apologise for clumsiness of some scenes. I wrote this whole thing a year ago, just didn't actually had a time to "publish" it... But it's only few more chapters to go and then I have nothing written down so I'd like to also apologise up front if there will be another delays in updating since I'll need to actually produce something new eventually for this story (yay).

_"Mistakes are, after all, the foundations of truth, and if a man does not know what a thing is, it is at least an increase in knowledge if he knows what it is not."_

Carl Gustav Jung

 

          "I apologize for last night," Castiel says over the table as he and Gabriel sits down to their table.

"Oh don't mention it. I managed to get a date on the last call anyway, so I wasn't exactly alone, you know." he says with a smug smirk.

"I don't understand you, Gabriel. What is it so special about dating someone else every night?"

"Oh brother dear. Everything. The excitement,  vibe, energy... sex. Seriously, you should try it sometimes - it's about time even."

Their conversation is cut briefly as waiter brings them their menus and asking them about their choice of drink. When he walks away to get their drinks, Castiel continues:

"I do not think that would please me, but thank you for advice. I'll consider it."

"Right. I'm sorry. I forgot you're Mr. I'm looking for my soul mate and when I fall in love it will be forever."

Castiel only glares at him briefly and lets his eyes drop to the menu, studying their choices. The waiter comes back shortly and takes their orders. As he walks away, Castiel decides to get back to the topic.

"I don't know what's wrong with wanting to have stable long-term relationship."

"Probably nothing, if you‘d have one." he winks at Castiel. "But you don't even try to have any. You know, there need to be two for a relationship. And you're not an ugly duckling, bro. You shouldn't have problem to find someone. So why don‘t you go to some bar from time to time, try to find some new people, see how it goes?"

"Because, if I'll meet my "soul-mate", as you stated, it definitely won‘t be at any bar."

"Right, more like your office, huh?"

"What does that mean?" Castiel scolded him.

"Absolutely nothing," Gabriel smirks. "Anyway, since we‘re speaking about soul mates, how‘s that Deano boy?"

"I don't know why did you take such an interest in him." Castiel states casually.

"And why did you, brother?"

"He's my client, that's all." Castiel stiffens a bit, his casual tone failing quite rapidly.

"Yeah? And with who you were yesterday evening?"

"How... How do you know that?"

"Huh, really?" Gabriel laughs. "I mean, I was just shooting blind. You really were with him?"

They are forced to stop the conversation for a while as waiter brings them their food, placing it on the table and wishing them "Bon appetit!"

Castiel smiles politely at him and nods slightly. When he disappears from their hearing range Castiel turns back to Gabriel and says dryly:

"And even if I was, what's wrong about that?"

"Absolutely nothing. I mean, he‘s all yours. Quite handsome, but not actually my type."

Castiel only rolls his eyes and digs into his meal.

"But, it wasn't a date, was it?" Gabriel suddenly asks out of nowhere causing Castiel to chokes slightly at the piece of broccoli he’s just put in his mouth.

"Really, Gabriel? You think I would go on a date with my client?"

"I don't know. Would you?" Gabriel narrows his eyes suspiciously.

Castiel sighs heavily, taking a gulp of his drink to rinse the unpleasant feeling in his throat. and says slowly. "He needed to talk about something... so I went to help him."

"You don't have enough time to talk together on your sessions?" Gabriel asks raising his brows.

"We do, yes. But unfortunately our last session was cut off because Zachariah came to visit me about something."

"Oh, I see."

"Actually, I wanted to talk to you about this."

"I'm listening." Gabriel says playing with his fork, looking intrigued.

"Dean's brother, Sam, he has recently started to take Ritalin to improve his study performance and it seems he‘s getting more into it. And there is this friend of his, Ruby. We have a suspicion she is supplying him with those pills and when Zachariah came to me yesterday, Dean heard him talking on the phone with some Ruby. We‘re... We‘re not sure if it is that Ruby, but it seems pretty coincidental not to be."

"And you think old Zach is prescribing her those pills and she is passing them along to poor Sammy?"

"Yes."

"Hm.... What a couple of detectives you two are," Gabriel smirks.

"Gabriel!" Castiel scowls. "This is not funny. It‘s a serious situation. Sam shouldn‘t be taking those pills without prescription. It may have fatal effects."

"Oh you’re such a spoil, Castiel. Ok, I‘m sorry. Actually, I‘ve been watching Zach for a little while already, because some of his behavior seemed suspicious to me. I wouldn‘t be surprised if he was prescribing any pills to whoever came to ask."

"But, he can‘t do that."

"Oh my dear brother. He is no angel. Actually, none of us are. Well, maybe you. Have you never did anything against his rules?"

"I... No."

"Well, as I said, perfect little soldier. Look, some of us, psychiatrists, need to live from something, you know. And more patients you have, more money you have."

As Gabriel sees Castiel’s horrified look, he quickly adds: "Oh, don’t worry. I’m not one of those. But I can’t guarantee Zach isn’t. Well, anyway, I'll look over it and let you know."

"Thank you." Castiel mumbles, focusing on his plate again. How could anyone do something like this only for money? This seems utterly wrong for Castiel. He would never do such a thing.

"Anything for you and your handsome boyfriend." Gabriel suddenly says with grin from one ear to the other, cutting Castiel out of his thoughts.

" What?" he exclaims. "He‘s not..."

"Yeah yeah, I know... I‘m sorry. Can‘t I tease you a bit? Come on, I mean, when we were last time together for more than 10 minutes? I need to enjoy time spend with my little brother."

Castiel only sighs and shakes his head. What wouldn‘t he do for his brother.

 

✶✶✶✶✶

 

          Next Tuesday is Castiel sitting behind his desk, getting through some papers, when he hears a slight knock on the door.

"Come in,” he calls out, looking up from the papers.

Door opens and Castiel can see familiar green eyes and unsure smile on the symmetrically perfect freckled face.

"Hello, Dean,” Castiel says, briefly checking the watch on the wall. He had to lost track of time. It happens a lot to him lately.

"Hey, Cas,” Dean says as he closes the door, approaching the other man and slumping down the chair in front of the desk.

"So, how are you today?” Castiel asks, putting away the papers and focusing his eyes on Dean.

"Idontknow,” Dean mumbles. "Good, I think.”

"And what about Sam? How is he?”

"I... I don’t know actually. I didn’t see him since... well, since that night in the bar last Tuesday.”

"Oh,” Castiel frowns slightly.

"Ehm, Cas?” Dean asks unsurely.

"Yes?”

"Did, did I say or maybe did something that night when you, you know, when you carried me home? Because, you know, I, I don’t quite remember everything. But I have such a weird feeling like I’d maybe said something I wasn’t supposed to.”

"Right,” Castiel turns his gaze away for a while, going a bit red as he remembers the events of last week. "Well,” he clears his throat, "not at all, Dean. Nothing inappropriate.” he pauses for a while and fights to keep his eyes of Dean as he is determined to fix them on the window just above the leather couch.

"You sure?” Dean insists.

"Yes. You... you only complimented my eyes a bit, uhm, literally I guess, with few explicit words maybe and a comparison to universe. And you have apparently found out I smell like – and I quote it – vanilla and little fluffy puppies.”

"Oh,” Dean buries his face into his hands. This is not happening. This is... this is insane. He didn’t really say this. He couldn’t. Oh God! This is bad. "I’m sorry,” he mumbles through the veil of his hands still covering his face.

"That’s ok, nothing happened.” Castiel says quietly, recollecting the memory from his mind. It was quite nice moment actually. But he shouldn’t be thinking about Dean like this, so he rather stops.

"Well,” he says clearing his throat again and returning his gaze back to Dean, who is now sitting with his hands in his lap, looking a bit guilty.

"It’s ok, Dean,” Castiel smiles reassuringly. "You were drunk, you... you didn’t know what you were saying. You probably didn’t even mean that.”

"I...” Dean wants to say something, but he stops abruptly as he isn’t sure if he should tell Castiel that he did mean it – after all yeah, the dude has fucking amazing eyes and he does smell like Heaven, but really, this isn’t time nor place to say something like that; actually, there is _never_ time nor place to say something like that to another dude. He should get himself together.

"So, you said you haven’t seen Sam since last Tuesday. How is that?” Castiel asks.

"I... I don’t even know if he still lives in the apartment, you know. I mean, he is either ninja or he moved out, because if he is avoiding me, he does a damn good job. He’s not there when I’m leaving, he’s never there when I come home, when I go to sleep, when I wake up. I don’t really know if he is still living there or if he moved out.”

"Did you try to call him?”

"Are you kidding me?” Dean laughs sarcastically. "Like billion times. He keeps rejecting my calls. I am actually quite surprised he didn’t yet change his number.”

"I’m sorry, Dean. I... I didn’t know it would end like that.”

"It’s... it’s ok. It wasn’t your fault anyway.”

"But it wasn’t your fault either, Dean. Don’t you dare to self-loathe about it, ok? You need to understand Sam is a grown man and he is doing his own decisions and he needs to take his own consequences for them, as we all do. You can’t guard him forever. You need to let him go sometime.”

"But, I was always responsible for him. I was the only one constant in his life... and he was mine. Without him, I have no-one.

"You have me, Dean.”

Dean’s eyes linger on Castiel for quite a while. His eyes are soft and his gaze meaningful. Dean holds the gaze for a while, then averting his eyes, trying to suppress the fluttery feeling in his stomach.

"What about your dreams? How’s that going?” Castiel asks.

"I... I don’t seem to remember them since that night in the bar. I don’t know what happened. I don’t think they stopped. They’re just, like hidden or something.”

"Why do you think it is so?”

"Maybe I forced them out because I have my head full of Sam now?”

"Maybe.”

"Well but. I don’t know. I’d like to know them, you know. It was, it was much better when I knew them and when I could have talked about them with you. Now, it seems like a part of me is missing. I kind of miss them, even if they weren’t very nice from time to time.”

Castiel furrows his brows for a while and thinks about it. "Well, there is one way how to bring them back to your conscious mind.”

"Yeah? What’s that?”

"Hypnosis.”

"You’re... you’re kidding me, right?” Dean half laughs.

"No, I’m being very serious.” Castiel says with his usual calm voice.

"Sure, as usual.” Dean mumbles under his breath.

"I assume you don’t believe in hypnosis.” Castiel narrows his eyes a bit.

"I’m sorry, doc, but, it seems too sci-fi to me.”

"Well I won’t force you into anything.”

"No I... I think I’ll try it. I mean, what can I lose, right?”

"Very well then. Please, take your seat at the couch and try to relax.”

Dean looks to the black leather couch and for a split of a second he freezes. He remembers the last occasion he was sitting on that couch in this office. And that didn’t end up very well.

"Is everything alright, Dean?” he hears Castiel asks and when he turns his head towards the sound he sees Castiel looking at him, his face a bit concerned and furrowed. So he probably doesn’t remember that awkward moment – or he is just very good actor.

"Ehm, no,” Dean clears his throat. "Everything’s fine. I’m... I’m peachy.” he sends Castiel one of his confident smirks with which he hides his uncertainty and he stands up to walk towards the leather couch. He cautiously sits on it and leans against the backrest, crossing his arms.

"You need to relax, Dean.” Castiel says, sitting next to him on the other armchair.

"Ok,” Dean says and puts his hands on the armrests.

"Now, sit back and recline your head against the couch.”

Dean clears his throat again and a bit stiffly obeys Castiel’s instructions.

"You alright?” Castiel asks.

"Yeah, yeah. I think I’m fine.”

"Good.” Castiel says and falls silent for a while, as he would be thinking. "Uhm, what about head. Do you have comfortable position or do you need some rest under your neck?”

"Uhm, I don’t know. I think I’m good.”

"May I check it?”

"How?” Dean glances over him.

"Uhm, I’m gonna need to touch you,” Castiel says unsurely.

"Oh, uhm... okay. Uhm, you really don’t need to say it, you know.”

"I’m sorry, that’s just, protocol, you know.”

"Alright, it’s ass creepy protocol, but ok,” Dean jokes and is quite relieved when he hears Castiel chuckles a bit. He could have sensed Castiel being all stiff and taut too and it made him all tensed even more. Now when he feels Castiel relaxes a bit, he feels better too.

Castiel slides one hand under Dean’s neck, checking the position Dean is in. "I think you’re good,” he says. "But,” he moves his hand to Dean’s shoulder and adds even the second one as he tries to push Dean’s shoulders slightly to the mat. "Your shoulders are still a bit stiff. You need them to relax.”

"Well, it’s easier to say than do.” Dean smirks again glancing at Castiel who is now hovering over him in an awkward position.

"You know, if Rachel walked out on us now, that would be something,” Dean isn’t even sure why he said this out loud, but he did and unfortunately he can’t take it back now. All he accomplishes is blushing Castiel who immediately pulls back from him, like he has just got burned.

"Sorry,” Dean murmurs, trying to make an eye contact with Castiel. He is however very reluctant to do so.

"There’s nothing to be sorry about,” Castiel says almost whispering and leans back into his armchair.

"So,” he clears his throat, "if you are ready... please, close your eyes.”

Castiel is then saying prepared formulas to get Dean into the hypnosis, which on his surprise takes much shorter than he thought it would be.

 

✶✶✶✶✶

 

          Dean opens his eyes slowly and looks unsurely at Castiel.

"So, when do you want to start?” he asks.

"We’ve done already.” Castiel says deadpanned.

"What?” Dean raises his eyebrows, "you kidding me? We didn’t even start.”

"Dean,” Castiel says firmly, "you’ve been in the hypnosis for 15 minutes.”

"Yeah right,” Dean laughs shortly.

"I’m not joking, Dean.” Castiel is still deadly serious.

"You... you’re not?” Dean furrows.

"No.”

"But...”

"Just look at the clocks.”

Dean obeys and see that time really passed; about fifteen minutes.

"Did you... adjusted them?”

"Why would I do that? And besides. If you really weren’t in hypnosis, when would I do that?”

"Yeah, I guess you’re right,” Dean says more to himself, still frowning, quite confused.

"So, do you believe me now?”

"Yeah I... I think I do.”

"Good. Now.... what do you remember?”

"Remember? I didn’t see anything. What do you mean? I mean, I just closed my eyes and then I opened them.”

"Dean, just relax a focus, alright? I’m sure there is something you’d remember.”

"I...” Dean furrows his brows to the point he thinks it is not possible anymore. He is looking down at his hands folded in his hands right now and thinking. He thinks if he will be furrowing like this yet for some time, his face will freeze like that. And then it comes. First it is just few simple shots of images and slowly, gradually it starts to unfold before his eyes. He starts to remember. He really dreamt in those fifteen minutes. He probably dreamt even before, he just really couldn’t remember it.

"Ok, I’ve got something,” Dean says triumphantly glancing at Castiel. Castiel sends him a reassuring small smile and nods slightly to make Dean continue.

"Well, there is this guy, his name is Chuck. And it seems he writes about us... about me and Sam. It seems like, like he is writing about our lives. I mean, everything he writes becomes true. Like, I don’t know, like he was a psychic or something, you know. Like he has some vision and then he writes it and it happens.”

"That sounds... interesting,” Castiel nods.

"Yeah, it is ... a bit weird, but definitely interesting,” Dean agrees.

They yet long talk about Dean’s dreams and the meanings he is giving to them, until their time doesn’t run out.

When Dean is leaving the office Castiel stands too and walks him out of the door.

"I really hope you’ll get hold of Sam soon, Dean.” he says genuinely concerned.

"Yeah, me too.” Dean smiles a little sad smile, his gaze on the ground. "Anyway, thanks doc.” he points his gaze onto Castiel and smiles a bigger, happier, frank smile. 

 

✶✶✶✶✶

 

            Next week Dean is in Castiel’s office he is again sitting in the black leather chair under the window. He again couldn’t recall any of his dreams during the past week, so Castiel suggests hypnosis again. Sam also didn’t call, nor showed up in apartment during the whole week. Dean doesn’t even know if he is still living in the same town. It is like he would disappear completely.

Dean relaxes and closes his eyes, prepared for the scenes from his dreams to flood his unconsciousness.

_"Dean.” Chuck nods stiffly as he walks into his living room, the cans of beer and a bottle of whisky in his hands._

_"I take it you knew I'd be here.” Dean says from his position in the old scruffy armchair._

_"You look terrible.” Chuck expresses._

_"That's 'cause I just got hit by a minivan, Chuck.” Dean says sternly._

_"Oh.” Chuck gasps._

_Dean leans forward, still sitting, and asks, more rhetorically: "That it?”_

_"Every damn thing you write about me comes true. And all you have to say is "oh"?!” he increases his voice._

_"Please don't yell at me.” Chuck says submissively as he places the cans and the bottle at the wardrobe next to him._

_"Why do I get feeling there's thing that you're not telling us?” Dean says standing up from the armchair._

_"What wouldn’t I be telling you?” Chuck shakes his head._

_"How you know what you know, for starters!” Dean yells again._

_"I don't know how I know. I just do.” Chucks sounds desperate and genuinely startled._

_"That's not good enough.” Dean shakes his head and grabs Chuck under his neck pinning him to the wall._

_"How the hell are you doing this?!” he yells again._

_"Dean, let him go.” Castiel’s voice sounds from behind him and Dean is about to turn around._

Suddenly Dean blinks few times and what he sees leaves him stunned, looking into two big blue startled eyes. It takes Dean few minutes to take in the situation. He stands in the Castiel’s office, right next to the wall. Castiel is standing in front of him, more like leaning against the wall. And Dean, Dean is holding him by his collar and pinning him to that wall. He can feel puffs of hot air leaving Castiel’s mouth periodically. His breath is shaky and fast, his mouth slightly parted. Dean’s eyes travels to his hands on Castiel’s collar, holding him firmly against the wall, not letting go. He sees the few days old stubble in need of proper shaving and a slightly moving Adam’s apple.

And all Dean can think about now, when they are so close, is how it would feel to suck on that skin on Castiel’s neck. How would it feel to leave hot wet trail and to mark him with little love bites and marks of teeth. He travels his gaze up to Castiel’s jaw and chin, that wide firm jaw of his. Dean almost leans in and licks the skin on it, just to feel it, just to taste it. And then there’re those lips. Those full pink lips which Dean imagines must the softest lips he’d ever kissed. If only once, he needs to kiss this lips. And he almost does. The only stopping in this action is, when Dean travels his gaze up to Castiel eyes.

There isn’t passion or lust in Castiel’s eyes. It probably is in Dean’s, but not in Castiel´s. No. His pupils are dilated, but not from lust. There is fear in them. A genuine, honest fear. Dean is watching Castiel for a while. He is not able to speak a word, the only sound in the room are they short fast breaths. It seems like Castiel wants to say something, but he ends up only swallowing hard, his Adam’s apple moving tentatively. But Dean is not able to do what he wants to do. He can’t do it because of the fear in Castiel’s eyes. He can’t do it, because he knows it’s wrong. He can’t do it, because... because Castiel doesn’t want it. And it would be wrong and twisted to use Castiel like this. A feeling of guilt washes over Dean as he remembers what he already done while thinking about Castiel. That was wrong and twisted. And he can’t continue in such behavior, not like this. He needs to stop... completely. He needs to stop seeing Castiel.

Dean leans back and slowly let go of Castiel, like the hands which were holding him weren’t even Dean’s. He’s still looking into his eyes, looking for a sign of forgiveness, of a sign of understanding, but all he can see in them is that animalistic fear. No. He can’t do that to Castiel. His friend, Castiel. Dean steps backwards, letting go of Castiel completely. He makes a few steps back only to bump into the armchair, which is lying on the ground, overturned. How the hell did this even happen? How the hell did they get from the couch and the chair to the wall? Does this happen normally in hypnosis? Or is it just that Dean is that much fucked up he can’t do even hypnosis good enough?

"I’m... I’m sorry.” Dean stutters out and turns around hastily, hurrying away from Castiel’s office. He is hoping, he is wishing Castiel would say something that Castiel would call out at him, that Castiel would stop him. But there is no sound of Castiel’s voice behind Dean’s back as he is walking away of the office. No "stay” or "wait, Dean”. Nothing. And Dean’s heart drops to his stomach, because he knows, he knows he has just screwed everything up.


End file.
